National Novel Writing Month or NaNoWriMo is upon us again. I made a half arsed attempt last year and didn’t finish it. That it has come around again has made me aware of what other goals I haven’t reached that I made a year ago.
First of all, I was supposed to have the first draft of my novel finished between NaNoWriMo’s. One year for one draft. Not a massive goal. I even have the beginning, middle and end all plotted out in my head along with a whole bunch of other ideas. The book is essentially written and just needs expunging from my head onto the page and then some actual written craft done to it.
Yet this hasn’t been done and I have been procrastinating with a glass of wine and shite TV that I swore I would never watch again.
Then there was the whole getting back to my pre-baby size, which has quite frankly gone out of the window, down the road and up the M1. I have instead been putting weight on. My husband politely pointed out we would be going to Australia next year in the height of their Summer and while I am too self-conscious about those stretch marks for a bikini, I would like to be comfortable in what little Summer clothes I own.
So, no more cake, biscuits, finishing off discarded toddler meals and joining the gym complete with its creche use.
This is a big kick up the arse for all the things I set out to do and haven’t yet completed.