Time Changes Are Stupid

Daylight Savings Time is the worst. Not the one where we get an extra hour of sleep - that one is fabulous. But this one...I hate springing forward. I hate the fact that it should be 8:30 right now and I should be getting a ton of stuff done. I hate that I'm just an hour closer to going to work. I also hate adjusting to going to sleep. I was up until almost 1:30 last night, tossing and turning, wondering when the heck I was finally going to fall asleep. Of course, that could also have been a result of the humongous nap I took on Sunday afternoon. I told you, I'm not good with Daylight Savings.

I wish I could say that I spent this entire weekend writing, but that's not true. I did spend the entire weekend reading, and so I'm blaming Ransom Riggs for my lack of dedication to my story. Also, I'm going to blame this other story that is slowly worming its way into everything I do. I've been planning it out a bit more and developing the characters, and it's nowhere near close to ready, but it's more than I should be doing right now. I don't want to think about it too much because then I begin sabotaging my story, and that's where I am this morning. I keep thinking about it and how it sounds like Champion, but not really. It's...I don't know what genre I would put it under. I hate saying dystopia, because that's all there is out there for young adults right now (I swear), but that's all I can think of right now. There's a government that has gone out of control, thrown out "undesirables" and closed the borders. Instead of a girl and a boy who are trying to bring down the government, it's only a boy, because the girl has lost her memory. That's all I can really say about it, because the rest would give everything away. Reading that over, it doesn't sound very interesting. But it does in my head. Once it begins to take any shape other than a squiggly mess, I'll change that description and let you all know that I'm not a complete idiot.

The good news is that, from the original outline, I've only got about eight more chapters left for Amory. I still don't hate a title, but that can be worked out quickly, I'm sure. Of course, writing those eight chapters is the easy part. I'm thinking ahead now, and I've already got my David Tennant face on for editing. You know the one.

Yeah. If I could make that face, that's the face I would be making while thinking about editing. The only fun part of the editing process is getting my manuscript all bound and pretty at Staples. But then I stare at it for a few days and wonder how something so beautiful could make my life a living Hell. Maybe that's why I'm sabotaging my writing time. I refuse to finish because I don't want to edit. Maybe I'll just stare at David Tennant for the entire month and forget about writing. That doesn't sound too bad actually.

Okay, I've taken a long enough break from cleaning. I have to get back to it if I don't want my boyfriend breaking out into a red blob when he comes over later this week. It's the cat's fault. She should really get off her lazy butt and help me clean. Oh, geez, I just had an image of that and it's terrifying.