My October challenge came and went. I did complete the challenge—ended up with 15,700 words, not too shabby for someone who hadn’t written much the months prior—but I did not win, as I suspected would be the case (S.O. … I’m watching you, you know who you are … LOL). However, I did finish up a first draft of a book and to me that’s a huge accomplishment. Now it’s time for the dreaded edits… I so don’t like the dreaded edits. It makes me feel whiny and gripy when I have to do edits–sure, I can be that way anyway, but it’s worse. 
I am walking around the house grumbling about this and that. Kids are avoiding me. The dh won’t make eye contact… yeah PMS aint got nothing on edit-hell.
The thing about edit-griping, anything can fall into it. For instance, buttons on the back pocket of jeans. Do you know how many I have knocked off–I have this inner ear/balance/clumsy thing going for me. And it’s always the one off the right cheek… dunno. My arse doesn’t need bling.
Never get me started on driving my kids to school. People lose all their senses dropping off a kid in front of a school—stopping in the middle of a lane to let your umpteen kids unpile from the car while you essentially block two whole lanes… if middle fingers were lasers the driver would be bald and missing an ear or two. S’all I’m saying.
If my dog scares you when she barks at you at the front door, stop ringing my doorbell.
Never wear a watch (for like 17 years) ’cause you’re always zapping/breaking them? Don’t go buy one ’cause you keep looking at your wrist *…shakes head…*. In that case, I keep looking at my finger, I need a new ring. For that matter, my neck is a little under adorned and my ears are screaming for bigger diamonds.
See… just gripy!
Now, back to the edit cave to wrap up the book and make all the cursing and evil-eyeing worth something. Please feel free to share any gripe as of late, vent a little. Or if you feel the need to gloat about something, by all means do, I am always ready to hear good news!
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