I’m not sure how I feel about this.
On one hand, I’m sad. I love the thrill, the intoxicating magic of November. I love the writing panic and the word wars and getting to tell people, “Not now. I’m writing a novel.”
Then again, I’m looking forward to actually getting some sleep for the next eleven or so months.
….and catching up on the schoolwork I kinda skimped on during National Novel Writing Month. I have a Spanish oral today I’ve barely studied for. I woke up to study… and somehow ended up blogging. Eh, that’s what lunch period’s for, no?
December also means winter. It means Christmas trees (we put ours up earlier this week), the bright lights (our neighborhood is full of them and it sparkles), and snow (if you count that on my blog page, cuz we ain’t gettin’ it here).
It means winter break in two weeks, and it means that peaceful time of year when you can gather around the fire in your robes with your cocoa and enjoy time as a family.
It also means freezing my butt off whenever I go to the barn or we ride our Vespas.
It means finally understanding the significance and blessing of a hot shower.
It means Winter Point Show, which is Sunday.
It means charity. It means kindness. It means the homeless night we hosted at church on Sunday, and the fundraiser we’re having on Saturday.
It means I have to remember to stop making myself smoothies as a quick breakfast to take to the bus stop every morning. Even if they’re made out of Eggnog, smoothies aren’t so pleasant when it’s 40 degrees outside.
It means seeing your breath (good to know it’s always there!)
It means settling down for that odd little stage between NaNo and Screnzy where you’re not quite sure what to do. It means adding to your novel, editing and revising, getting it ready for CreateSpace.
It means mistletoe. For the normal people. There’s no online equivilant, so I’ll skip it.
It means sleep. It means contentment.
But mostly sleep.