During my weekend away I attempted to surgically remove the tip of my little finger with a tin of tomatoes. I failed this time, but I remain certain it can be achieved. Now I'm left with a band-aid around a very sore cut, and I realise now as never before how much I actually use the little finger on my right hand. Who would have thought it.

Meanwhile, three different people have told me since Friday that I should attempt NaNoWriMo in the (then) fifteen days remaining. "Come on," R^y said. "You can do it. You haven't got anything else to do." I resisted the temptation to tell him to go boil his head and eat it. I'm writing, and writing hard, but I'm not NaNoWriMoing. Just novel writing in general.