It’s Friday.  Anybody who has dropped by on a Friday before knows what that means.  Not TGIF.  Not around here.  It means:  time to set writing challenge goals for the weekend.  I’m ready to bludgeon myself, just for saying that out loud.

This week finds me dispirited, drooping like one of my poor unfortunate houseplants.  I should explain that on the rare occasions when I bring a new plant home, I can hear the others whispering, “get out, while you still have chlorophyll.  Never mind that you have no feet.  Pull a Nemo maneuver – roll off the shelf and out the door.  Yes, it’s freezing out there, but your chances are better….”

I choose to believe that plants under my care do not die out of malice.  They are not staging little plant hunger strikes and dying out of spite.  Unfortunately, the conditions necessary for their health and well being simply are not present.  The occasional plant, of the variety that thrives on neglect, does well here, but needier plants must live in homes more equipped to provide for their care.

By extension, I suppose I have to admit that if today I am drooping and a little mildewed, it may not be because I am an inherently bad genetic strain.  Possibly the fact that I was on call for 6 out of the last 7 days has something to do with it.  Maybe the fact that several people who matter deeply to me are going through personal difficulties contributes to the general malaise.  Possibly I should take into account the reality that teenagers live in my house.

So, if today I am disenchanted with Nanowrimo and this year’s story, if I temporarily hold the belief that my writing is an affliction and a blot upon the face of the universe, and there is a very good reason why the stars in their courses do conspire against me and my writing… if I hold these thoughts today, perhaps the truth is that I am simply in need of a little extra water, or fertilizer, or sunlight.

Which brings us back to the fact that it is Friday, and that on Fridays I set challenges for myself, and this week those challenges include self care right along with word count goals.  

1.  Do some yoga or meditation every day this weekend, starting with today.  This is not negotiable – I don’t care how many people are wanting how many things, or how much noise is being produced, or how much I don’t think I can step aside from the fray to calm the stormy seas of my own chaotic mind.  

2.  Accept the writing of the day as the writing of the day, without putting judgments on it.  Some of it is good, some of it is crap, some of it just is.  All of it is words, all of it is practice, all of it is something from which to learn.  Compost, maybe, for a story that will be better and brighter.

3. Accept that I am not a speed freak, and that I will never catch up with those of my friends who have already hit 30k.  Accept the jealousy and irritation I feel that they can seemingly write so effortlessly.  Remind myself that most people won’t ever, in an entire lifetime, write the 1667 words I will write nearly every day in November, and be grateful that I can write at all.

4. Choose to love the story I am writing, instead of abandoning it for greener pages.  Hey, if I don’t love it, who will?

5.  Reach the requisite 26672 words by the end of Sunday evening.

So – what are the rest of you hoping to accomplish this weekend?  Are you all still breathing?  Fingers still working?  Let me know how it’s going – it gets lonely in Nanoland from time to time.