NaNope, not in 2020

Honestly, I should just give up right now. My daughter is with her grandparents today which is supposed to make my day easier. But instead, my son is RAGE WRITING numbers in his flimsy-paged math book, ripping right through several pages at once.

The kids in my son’s virtual class keep interrupting LOUDLY or leaving their mics on while they sing to themselves. The teacher keeps yelling at them in Spanish and when they say, “I don’t understand you,” she just yells louder… in Spanish. I’m beginning to think that this “dual language” class is just the one language at various volumes.

So essentially, I am teaching my son Spanish so he can understand his Spanish teacher enough to learn the math skills he already has in English that he learned from the goddamn Numberblocks 8 months ago.

Why am I not getting my wordcount goals accomplished every day? Because life is fucking hell right now. It’s fucking hell. I can’t believe I even tried to do NaNo this year. There is no time in the day that I’m not already busy. Every second of every day is full of childcare and housework and virtual school and I still have a job I hardly have time to do for a business that is absolutely flailing. Sometimes I get to sleep, sometimes the kids have nightmares or I do and then I spend every day like a zombie just trying to remember what freaking day it is.

I can’t do this, ya’ll. I can’t write a book in a month that features virtual kindergarten, 0 childcare, failing business, money concerns, mental health issues on the part of both children and adults in my household, Christmas shopping, “holiday planning” (which means convincing family members to NOT plan anything dangerous), a contested election/possible Republican coup, and a deadly global goddamn pandemic.

I give up. On a lot of stuff. But most definitely on NaNoWriMo.

Writer Blocked

I’ve written not quite a thousand words today and it took HOURS not because I’m having writer’s block but because I’m getting Writer Blocked.

My kids have interrupted me ever 10 words or so. I’ve gotten up 4 times in the last 10 minutes to get more snacks for my daughter. My son is in virtual Kindergarten and I have to keep him from screaming at the screen when he gets frustrated.

And there’s so much freaking noise all the time from school and the TV and the kids and people are still mowing their lawns? Seriously? Once the first snow hits, I think you just let the grass be.

I can’t concentrate. I can’t write this damn blog post because I CAN’T CONCENTRATE.

And my WIP? It’s about a mom in the pandemic who goes fucking nutballs because she can’t fucking concentrate.

Writer’s Revenge

I don’t have the time or the patience to minx words: I fucking hate my son’s kindergarten teacher. She’s a condescending bitch who projects her disapproving admonitions into my house on a daily basis like she’s somehow the BOSS of me and gets to dictate MY parenting decisions from her suburban town into my urban household.

And you know what writers do to people they hate, right?