Behinder and Behinder

I'm at only 31,551 words today. Only 18,000+ to go in two days. Guess what? It ain't gonna happen.

I have a couple hours this morning, then no free time until post-Henry bedtime tonight. Jon is out of town so I'm on my own for Henry and pet care. Ira the cat has gone almost entirely blind, and for the last few days has been unable to accurately target his litter box. Thus, I spent the 6AM hour this morning (my before-Henry-awakes writing time) cleaning up cat piss.

Bet Hemingway never had to do that. I'm sure one of his several wives took care of it. Why can't I have someone around here who is in awe of my genius, who will shield me from the demands of childcare, housework, and pet maintenance? My precious, typing hands should not have to be besmirched by dirty dishwater and Mr. Clean.

In the parlance of our times, I must "suck it up" and return to my NaNo efforts -- though they are likely for naught.