It is nanowrimo, I've been attempting to write something for it. not very well at all. I have a germ of an idea but I can't seem to sit down and just write it. I can't at home at least. I keep doing things to distract myself from other things. I seriously don't understand somethings. Like how my ex can tell me that it seems like things are going well with me. No, they certainly are not going well. What they are is busy. And that's it. And things are busy only because if I stop long enough to think about how I feel I crumble.