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Thursday, 1 December 2011

Happy 31st of November! I gave the month an extra day to give me better winter weather.

It failed. Roll on the 32nd.

Okay, November has been and gone, many moustaches have been brought to life and then mercilessly cut down in their prime (Cruel bastards. A moustache is for life, not just for Movember!), NaNoWriMo has finished, won by many inspired people. As of 23:59, 30th November, I had-

Seven thousand, five hundred and seventy eight words.

It goes by the alias of forty thousand four hundred and twenty two words short.

Yeah, this is going to become a regular thing for me. I've got the start, I can start like a champ (most of those words were over the first two days)... but I get distracted early on and forget which race I've entered. Marathon or hurdles? Won't know untisthatasandwich?

Anyway, I got distracted doing my best to be a buttock-clenching curmudgeon for the benefit of my employers, and in practise for old age. Any elaboration would be thoroughly unprofessional. So, to cut a long story short- .

So, since I'm the master of unfinished business, I've decided to declare this day, the 31st November, formerly 1st December, Monthmas. And my Monthmas resolutions include

  • updating my blog at least once a month (next Monthmas, formerly known as New Year's Day)
  • continuing with my current NaNoWriMo projects (that's three now)
  • Continuing with my other projects (eight others), which may be merged together as they grow
  • Increasing my vocabulary so I can insult people like my comprehensive English teacher, Mr Walker (glorious man)
  • Reading more (bring on the Kindle. I've decided I want one. Simply for the portability.)
  • Making more lists
  • Enjoying a final, content free, bullet point.
  • ???
  • Profit!
  •   
On another note, where the actual balls has winter gone? In blighty, the weather is unseasonably warm (this time last year, inch-thick ice, this year, warm and damp. Moist, even.)

Well, I've discovered the shocking truth. Due to the recession, Old Man Winter has been victim to cutbacks, and laid off. Mother Autumn will be taking on his responsibilities. It's sad, but Old Man Winter has taken to unemployment hard, and has hit the bottle. After apologising to the bottle for his violent outburst, he drank its contents, and defrosted.

I will post more chapters later, but for now I need to wind down from work.

Mike
AKA Master of Loose Ends
AKA Crotchety Bastard
AKA Just rediscovered the 'Tags' section on blogger.