Help, Send Bifocals!

Oh sheesh.

You know, its never the known evils that bring you down. I expected word-count induced panic attacks. I anticipated carpal tunnel attackes. I planned for the inevitable 25000 word case of writer's block. I plotted. I diagrammed. I interviewed and researched--all of this before November. (I know, you're asking me how much research could possibly go into a book about a woman who thinks she's Barbie. Well let me tell you. That bitch gets around!)

So it's not the word count that's killing me. THAT I'm on schedule for in spite of the fact that I got run over by the cold from Hell on Day one of Nanowrimo. But hey, I reasoned, what better excuse for staying in bed with the old laptop than an utter inability to breathe. Turning those lemons into lemonade....oh yeah. Got out of cooking, too. That was good for an extra thousane nano-words.

But today, after four-thousand plus words have ticked by on this old screen--I am realizing that I need an arm extension. Or, according to my husband, I need bifocals. Word to the wise. Do not rob the cradle. Just as chidlren grow up too soon, those cute little embroyo boys that looked so cute and cut when we dragged them home from the bar--turn into full-grown man types. With opinions of their own.

How dare that man suggest that....old age might be creeping up on me? Pish posh. Of course not!
So, next year--Dear God, did i just say NEXT year?--I'll get the old eyes checked in October. Stock up on Visine. Do a lot of arm yoga. Or, in a real pinch, get magnifying screen aka bifocals for my monitor.

Because lets face it. Bifocals make everything look bigger.

That goes for toy boys and word counts.