26,127 words and a panic-run to Wawa for an ice-cream-and-cookie sandwich, followed by some tea. But it got me to crank out 4,360 words of English, so perhaps it was not really as silly and self-indulgent as I now think it to be.
Either way, there's still a bag of Doritos at home on the counter and I swear by the unholy gods that I will decimate whoever thinks they will open it before I do. Why? Because it is writer fuel the way they have gamer fuel, which is generally acknowledged to be utter shite in the eyes of a community that loves to laugh when people try to market things to them. However, in the interest of full disclosure, yours truly DID try the Halo 3 gamer fuel and can actually recall the bizarre and somewhat astringent aftertaste the soda left in her mouth even to this day. Gamers need Mt. Dew or equally high levels of caffeine to keep their twitch-reflexes going for epic knife kills in MW2 or whatever else the cop-op kiddies are playing these days; writers need access to things that taste good but are mind-numbingly easy to consume, and usually involve sticking your hand in a bag up to the elbow to obtain so that you at least get the occasional external stimuli of a bag rustling to keep you connected with the outside world.
Which now makes me realize there is a flaw in my plan, since I'll be attempting to type while constantly reapplying Dorito-cheese dust to my fingers and potentially my laptop keyboard. This is rather uncool. I'm going to have to a damp cloth nearby while stuffing my face, I guess. Unless I want an orange keyboard.
Back to writing, though.
I have officially leapt over the halfway point and am hoping to spend the rest of this week catching up in small batches. I procrastinate, aye, and this is my biggest issue most times. But I really think that I can pull this one out, as I always do, at the last minute.
Today's official goal to shoot for is 38,333.