Part Sixteen is in the bag, so to speak. I set out to finish that character of Diners at the Memory’s End last night, and I did. Yes, just eight hundred and one words did the trick, and the chapter was almost nineteen hundred words, but if that’s all you need to get your point across, you use that, and nothing more.
Albert is back in class: well, he’s sorta back in class. Back sitting next to Meredith, back to listening to lectures . . . it’s all sorta back to normal. So with that said, there are two more parts to write, two more sections in the tale, and in about four thousand or so words, Diners will come to an end.
What comes after that–I’m curious about that as well. I don’t want to take a break from writing, but I don’t want to be in the middle of something when NaNo rolls around. As much trepidation as I may have for the upcoming event, I will attempt it this year. I want to believe that last year wasn’t a fluke, that I can actually do the deed as well this year as last.
So it was that I headed off to bed. It was a dark and stormy night–no, really. A thunderstorm brewed up last night, and it was all lightning and thunder the whole evening. As I fell asleep, there were flashes outside the window, and a low rumble now and then. I said good night to my Muse, then drifted off . . .
The thunder woke me up, right around 5 AM. I lay there for a long time, because I didn’t want to crawl out of bed. But things felt strange; it was as if the stuff around my feet just wasn’t there.
When I finally crawled out of bed, I discovered the sheets at the foot of the bed were all akimbo. It looked like I’d run a race, because everything had been pulled about a third of the way up from the edge. It reminded me of a scene from She Hulk, where Jennifer had a bad dream, and once she was awake, she discovered she’d shredded her pillows and comforter–which she could do with ease.
Me, not so much. Which is probably good for me.
Now, I could say that my dreams were making me restless–but I have no idea what my dreams were last night. That’s been happening of late; I fall asleep, then wake up in the morning. What happens in between, I have no idea. My dreams are becoming a mystery to me. A few months back they were pretty vivid, but these days, I’m getting little, if anything.
I think this is one of the reasons I’m starting to sleep, but I’m getting very little rest. The sleep is there, but I’m getting little REM action, and it would seem I’m moving about a lot.
If anything, I feel this means I’m not resting, I’m running as fast as I can while I should be doing nothing. And what is the cause? Could be anything. I mean, while things are getting better, there’s still something going on in my mind that needs to be quieted.
Hey, maybe this is something I can write about!