Dear November,
How did you get here already? I wanted to have the first draft of manuscript #1 done by the end of year. Not sure it’s gonna happen. On a good note, I’ve been getting up at 4 am most days to give myself an hour or so to write before having to officially get up and get ready. (FYI, today was not a most day.) I think about all those nanowrimo writers and wonder if they will really be able to write 50,000 words in a month. I have a friend who’s trying. If she’s successful, I will be 2000% jealous of her. One of my projects has 44,841 words, so I am close. But that’s taken me 2 years. And just because I have them doesn’t mean they’re good words. On another good note, I got an acceptance today! Finally. My submittable account was filling up with red “Declineds.”
Dear November,
Everyone is being extra thankful because you’re here. I guess that’s appropriate, what with Thanksgiving and all. Last weekend I met an Orthodox nun. I expected her to be stuffy and pious. Instead, she was down-to-earth, relatable, and so funny. (She even talked about sex! Can you believe it?) But she gave me homework. (Argh!) She challenged me to give thanks for everything for a year. A year. My counselor told me that he knows people who keep gratitude journals and they say it changed their lives. I wouldn’t mind my life changing a bit. Maybe I’ll try it.
Dear November,
Did you know that in some places you’re now known as Movember? It’s all about “the annals of fine moustachery,” according to the website at least, which I thought was because men were just getting tired of shaving. (My husband typically sports a beard November-February. This is why he doesn’t get kissed as much during these months. Scratchy!) But I found out that men actually sport fancy moustaches to raise awareness and money for men’s health. So I guess it’s kinda cool . . . I wonder if I can quit shaving my legs to raise awareness for something?
Dear November,
You are cold and dark. I can’t stand the fall evenings when it’s dark by 5 pm. Darkness depresses me. I go through the house turning all the lights on. I drink hot tea every night to get warm. No more visits to playground or 30 minute runs after school. (Ok, I only ever got up to 27 minutes.) It’s too chilly for me. I can’t wait until April, when I’ll finally be able to stand still outside and feel the sun truly warm me. Maybe March, if we’re lucky. In the meantime, I will try to like you, November, I really will. I guess if I’m doing this thankful thing I’ll have to figure out a way to be thankful for you. Every day is another opportunity to live.