I wrote a little bit (less than 200 words) while at work. Home was lovely. We ordered pizza and wings, watched The Amazing Race and 30 Rock and then it went downhill when I sat down to write.
Sammy would not stop barking. Before I actually began to write I checked my email and LJ when hubby, trying to be helpful, said something like, "I thought you were going to write" which I took as criticism. And it did not sit well with me since I was busting my butt at work today, did two loads of laundry after getting home, and wanted to check on a few things before I settled in. I was three minutes into a word war when Sammy started jumping in the kitchen trying to reach his bag of food. Within a few more minutes he was barking and jumping around in the dining room. I lost it and shrieked something at him about "Quiet".
In order for writing to get done at home I'll either have to have the office setup well (right now it's still a bunch of boxes and a half apart computer) or create a little area in the basement amongst the boxes of books where I can't see anyone and won't really hear them.
When I gave up writing for the night, I worked on laundry some more, put away the clean dishes I washed yesterday evening, and swept and polished some of the living room floor before chatting with hubby about the evening. I'm feeling overwhelmed and like a failure. With Sammy around it's hard to keep up on the cleaning (I sweep his hair up in the bathroom only to have it come back five minutes later) and even though he's not allowed on the furniture, his hair gets on our clothes and transfers over which I then try to clean off. Rarely have I met any of my writing goals this month. I thought Sammy was getting five or more walks a day and I've found out it's really more like three. The laptop that was only supposed to be delivered Monday - Friday was attempted delivery on Saturday, is closed for delivery on Monday, and will try again on Tuesday... which means I have to get off work a little early, make it to home and hope I'm here when they deliver it. Our NaNo ML suggested a last minute write-in with word wars that I was planning on attending. Oh well.
Writing is important to me as is spending time at home. Since I can't write, now that the words are actually coming again, I feel like a failure. Right now I don't see the word count as better than last year (which it is), or the attempt at writing consistently, or anything else. I see the PC that needs software installed, the unwritten email to my friend about the awesome author pictures she took, the undone web site, Christmas Shopping (which is not only usually done by me but also happens to need to be done super early since my mother insists on celebrating Christmas on the 8th), and obdience classes. (These aren't offered again through the humane society until January.)
Total Word Count is 17,301.
He looked at her to make sure he had her attention. Then he trotted over to the right, looking behind him every minute or so. For a moment she stood there, unsure if she should follow or not. Instinct or something else she couldn't name told her to follow the dog. Walking behind him, she noticed he was missing his tail. After several yards she saw a row of trees. He took her to just beyond the trees and stopped. The road was there. A slightly dusty road made from packed down brown dirt was there.
"Thank you, dog! I would have missed the road were it not for you."
She could have sworn she saw him smile before he stretched and began to walk on the road to Lerod. Margeaux followed him. Rykel had written down the name of the cleric guild and included a letter of introduction so she could procure for of the Wort her village needed. It was inside the little pouch of gold. According to Rykel's calculations it should be able to purchase enough for the village to get by until the village could grow some of their own Wort.
Margeaux and the dog walked beside each other on the road. The sun was still high in the sky. It would not start to get dark for a few hours yet. She should have plenty of time to get to the city before the gates were closed to visitors. As she got closer to the city she felt a strange sensation as though someone were watching her. The road seemed to be a straight shot but there were trees on either side of the road. A bandit could be on the other side of any tree she passed. Margeaux slid her knife out of her pants pocket and tucked it into the sleeve of her coat. With a swift motion she would be able to slide it down her arm and the handle would fit nicely into the palm of her hand. She hoped she would not need it.