Six days left

It's amazing how fast time moves. 24 days ago I started writing on a crappy novel without any idea where it was going. Some days I skipped writing all together, being far too busy with life to bother, and some days I just forced myself to write the missing words and then continue.
I am still doing exactly that, like life isn't moving forward during November, it just skips the month completely. First there's October and then all of a sudden it's December when you no longer have time for anything book writing related because of Christmas.

My newly acquired fondness for youtube (and youtubers) has been standing still. I still haven't come up with the perfect username, and the more time I spent just watching the piece of paper with names on it, the more hopeless it seemed. That dream is now on hiatus until I can figure out what to do about it.

My winter wonderland

Right now I'm all cosy in my duvet which I have mashed into the armchair in the living room. I have realized that sitting in my bedroom and trying to write doesn't really work for me. Too many distractions, really. And thanks to some really weird dancing Sunday night, my neck is hurting. And thanks to my neck hurting, I have a reason to wear the beanbag around it, which warms me nicely in the chilling cold that is my house at the moment. It's cosy of DOOM! (Although I do find it slightly uncomfortable when I try to sit properly, you have to crane your neck a bit weirdly for the full effect, and double discomfort when it's too warm)

But with the candles glowing in the dimly lit living room, the TV showing an old episode of Friends, with the smell of gingerbread coming from the gingerbread house we made last night (and by made, I mean we mounted it in position) and the snow falling quite miserably outside the window (as it has for the last days now), I can't help but feel that Christmas is coming.