I am a terrible writer and should just quit

I don't really mean that.

Well, maybe a little.

 I've written 488 words today and am 10,000 words behind schedule. I don't have enough plot to fill another 10,000 words, let alone the 35,000 I need to get to 50,000. I am tired, I am stressed, I want to be done.

Would you like to hear about my day?

Wake up at 5:45, get ready, feed kids breakfast, kiss kids goodbye
7:00 get to work
7:15 staff meeting
8:00 start work
10:00 lock my classroom, run to the staff bathroom and pee for the first time
12:04 eat lunch while giving kids make-up tests, grade conferencing, and answering e-mails
1:40 pee for the second time (which is a minor miracle, usually I only get to pee once a day)
3:00 start after school tutorial
4:00 end after school tutorial, stuff papers in bag, bike home
4:15-5:00 at neighbor's house while our kids play together, plan our kid's 4th birthday parties
5:10 make dinner
5:45 eat dinner
6:00-7:00 play puzzles, get treated like a jungle gym, catch up on twitter (hey, I needed down time).
7:00 baths
7:20 watch Ruby Gloom
7:45 Bryan reads to kids while I fire up the laptop
8:00-10:00 stare forlornly at my novel, eek out 488 words, feel like a failure.
10:03 write a self-pitying blog post and contemplate going to bed I have hit a wall.

According to my nanowrimo pep talker, that usually happens at 25,000 words. *facepalm*

This means I don't have anything new for you, but I do have stuff I wrote last week, so you get that. Maybe if you love it I'll be inspired to write more tomorrow.

            The sun was now high overhead and it was starting to feel like the 7^th level of hell if only because breathing in the corset wasn’t getting any easier. I had been hoping that I would get used to it as the day passed, but I was sorely disappointed. Literally. My ribs felt sore.

            We had made the rounds of the site and I had met more people than I could ever remember. I’d had tea with the Queen (who kept character even when behind the scenes), been serenaded by Shakespeare, had more raw seafood pushed into my face by people Jeanie called “mongers”, and watched the most bawdy puppet show I’d ever seen. Although, in all honesty, it was the only puppet show I’d ever seen. Still, it was pretty bawdy. I hadn’t realized that puppets knew those words. It certainly would have made Elmo blush.

            It was just past 3, and we had been at Faire for almost 4 hours. I had started to realize that the way most of the regulars coped with being stuck in uncomfortable corsets was to drink. The alehouses were doing big business and half of the paid staff had a flask or two on them. Tiny called it “recreational alcoholism.” Even though the booze was free flowing, very few people were drunk. Except Jeanie. She had taken drinking to a whole new level and I was starting to get worried about her. I’d seen her drink before, but never like this.

            “Hey Jeanie,” I said to her as we passed by the beer garden and she had refilled her flask with something Tiny kept behind the counter, “maybe you should slow down a little, it’s only 3. Also, I’m not sure how much longer I can stand being in this thing, when are we leaving?”

            “Oh chill Aiai, is jus’ Faire, evey buddy drinks at Faire,” she slurred. “An I’m not redy ta leave yet. Jus’ have ‘nother round ‘n have fun.”

            I sighed. If I had the keys I would have forced the issue, but she had put them in Christian’s tent shortly after we got to Faire and I didn’t know where he was camped.

            “Fine, we’ll stay. But you’re cut off,” I grabbed her flask.

            “Damn it Aileen, give it back,” she protested, but I was taller and not drunk, so the struggle was a short one. “Fine,” she huffed, “I’ll just go get a drink from Tiny!”

            She stumbled back toward the ale-stand where Tiny was directing a small army. I followed her, annoyed.

            Tiny smiled as we approached and motioned for us to meet him at the “backstage” entrance. The Faire site was set up almost like a giant, oblong donut. The booths in the middle all faced outward and had a separate entrance/exit through the back that lead to a makeshift alleyway where vendors kept various supplies, staff took breaks, and a few tents were set up. There were 2 other entrances to the area, but you had to know where to look as they were quite cleverly disguised. I hadn’t decided if I was going to nickname this place Diagon Alley or the Labyrinth. Diagon Alley was slightly nerdier, but some of the costuming from the Labyrinth worked better. It was at this point that I decided that I needed to get out more.

            Tiny met us in Diagon Alley (it just rolls off the tongue better, I though to myself) and gave Jeanie a hug.

            “Afternoon ladies,” he greeted us, “what can I do for you?”

            “Aileen’s decided to be a party pooper.” She said, holding on to him as much for balance and for affection, “she took away my flask.”

            “Yes, that’s me, the party police,” I replied sarcastically. “Look Jeanie, you can barely stand up straight. You need to take a break.”

            Tiny raised his eyebrows at me and mouth thanks.

            “Let me get you something special Jeanie,” he replied as he helped her sit on a bale of hay. He disappeared into the ale stand and returned with a small hollowed out horn. “Drink this.”

            “What is it?” She asked, reaching for the horn. “Rum?”

            She drank, made a face, and handed it back.

            Tiny let out a belly laugh, “no, it’s water. You’re going to have one hell of a hangover if you don’t drink some more water.”

            Jeanie drunkenly struggled to her feet.

            “Imma big girl. I can handle m’self,” and she turned and walked out of Diagon Alley, leaving Tiny and I alone.

            “I should go get her,” I said, turning toward the exit.

            “No, let her go, she’ll be ok.” Tiny reassured me. “Christian is right outside working the tug-of-war game and she won’t go far without him. She’ll soon forget we were so “mean” to her and come back later. You, sit.” He pointed toward the hay bale that Jeanie had recently vacated.

            I sat. I was hot, uncomfortable, dirty, and exhausted. While parts of the day had been fun, this latest spat with Jeanie had zapped my energy. Tiny handed me the water.

            “Thanks,” I said and drank thirstily. “You’re good at spotting someone in need of hydration.”

            “Well, I own a bar, so I should be by now,” he smiled and sat down on the hay bale across from me.

            “In town?” I asked. While I wasn’t exactly a bar-fly, I had been to a lot of the bars in towns for occasional shows or girls nights out and I don’t recollect ever seeing Tiny. He’s not someone you could easily forget.

            “Yeah, it’s on the other side of town. It’s called Speakeasy, just off of Fair Oaks.”

            “Oh, I know that place! They have that burlesque show every month.”

            “Yup, that’s us!” he admitted happily. “Alex is the head of the burlesque troupe. They’ve been performing there for almost two years now. It’s our busiest night. I’m trying to get her to agree to come once a week.”

            “Which one is Alex? Is that the Queen?” I asked. I was terrible with names.

            A voice from behind me laughed.

            “Hell no, I wouldn’t be caught dead in that getup!”

            I turned to see a tall, blonde in a blue and green bodice and skit. She was beautiful and had a very welcoming air about her. We were about the same build and height, but where I was large busted, she was small. Other than that, we probably could have shared a closet. Her eyes were her most striking feature; one was a vibrant green and the other a pale blue. I couldn’t help but stare.

            She smiled. “The eyes, right?”

            I blushed, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to be rude.”

            “Don’t worry about it,” she flopped down next to me on the hay bale. “I’m much, much rather people stare at my eyes than at my incredibly huge ass.”

            “What?” I shifted positions to see for myself, “You don’t have a…”

            Alex giggled, “I know, I just love that joke. That way I get compliments on my eyes and my butt in the same conversation.”

            I laughed and Tiny smiled and shook his head, “You’re naughty Alex.”

            “Yes, yes I am, and that’s why you love me!” She blew Tiny a kiss and he pretended that it knocked him off his hay bale. We all laughed, I liked her.

            “So, you know me now, but I don’t know you,” Alex turned toward me, “are you new to Faire?”

            I nodded, “yes, this is my first time. My best friend brought me out today to meet all her new friends. I’ve met so many people I can hardly remember all of them.”

            “So you’re Jeanie’s friend?” she asked, “Alieen, right?”

            “That’s me!”

            “Wonderful! Jeanie’s told me all about you. You’re a blogger, right?”

            I laughed and shook my head, “No, no… Jeanie likes to make up new professions for me every so often. She thinks what I do isn’t sexy enough and claims that it’s my job that keeps me single. I’m actually a Kindergarten teacher.”

            “I dunno,” Alex said, “nothing says sexy like basic geometric shapes and dress up!”

            I laughed. Yes, I was definitely going to like her.