The first book is ordered and my current novel has a finish date of December 31, 2017 (since it's one of those 365 day novel challenges.)
So this way, I can write without having to stall it for time or even have a deadline. I'm even mentally brainstorming plots and twists. I started out by coming up with ideas for different books BUT this was the one I wound up really wanting to do.
Feeling better, both emotionally and physically, although I wish I'd get back to eating more salads as I've been lackluster on that since I got home. Still looking more fit than when I began nonetheless. 32 days in so far and counting, Praise the Lord. Results are very evident. ^_^
Tonight, I got boiled peanuts, 32 oz. and about 400-500 calories. I ate half and put the rest away, which is good because, with the usual willpower, I finish it off in one sitting. Thankfully I don't think I'm too calorie intensive throughout my day so I'm in the clear.
Today I've had a few bananas, grapes, an apple, 5-6 whole leafs of romaine lettuce, black forest ham (100 calories worth or so) and a string cheese aside from that. Not all at once, just out of the whole day. Also water, a decent amount of water.
Changed my mind about buying pans, possibly, since I don't feel like asking April to drive me to the thrift store to do it and all. :/
Other than that, played heavily on the Monopoly game on my iPod (really took me back to playing it years ago) until I learned how to actually beat the computer, lol. XD Chilled out with friends and that was my day.
I don't exercise as much anymore, just still trying to eat better. Less refined carbs but I have been having light meat and dairy (cheese) some days. At this point, I'm just trying hard to stick with it and hope I get the motivation back to exercise because it's during this week that I was usually giving up in the previous attempts. It'll be a huge victory for me to go beyond that and really stick it out, ya know? God bless, Jesus loves, lives, saves! Night folks! -waves- P.S. Had a weird dream I hung out with Chris Pratt and watched the new Guardians of the Galaxy movie at some tiny theater. The dream version of him was a very very nice and friendly person and I needed one of those happy dreams.
P.S. Here's a small look at the first draft of the first page of my new book. Subject to future editing, but I hope it's still decent:
"Sauvignon is back. I am back. I don't know how, or why, but I'm not as dead as I thought. I looked up and faced the wooden panels lined over my stiff body. I reached up and touched, knowing that beyond this was a six-foot wall of thick black soil, hardened by however many thunderstorms and droughts occurred since I died. I refused to scream or pound at the roof, knowing it was useless.
I wasn't dead long...I think. My skin and nails were perfectly intact, and the same must be said for my organs, which let my clean and shallow breaths fill the coffin with perfection. While this was nice, it wouldn't be long before my breath, my sign of life, would do more harm than good.
Even if I did make it out, it would involve breathing in a lot of dirt and very little air. My hands crossed over my chest and my fingers tickled the collar of my white chiffon blouse. With a hard yank, I pulled at the blouse, while partially sitting upward, and slipped it over my head. Then, I tied the shirt around my nose and mouth, able to breathe through the thin airy fabric.
I looked over the coffin lid for weaknesses, finding several long cracks down the center. I pushed on the cracks and kicked them at the same time with slipping scuffs, grunting as I felt the bending wood give way to the dirt that drizzled in over my chest. I kicked as hard as I could at the bottom of the coffin until my foot went through, and soil came down in thick piles over my feet. I moved the dirt to the sides and kept pushing and kicking, until finally another large hole busted open in the center! I braced the avalanche of soil as I stood up, then clawed at the earth and thick roots as if I were swimming in a vertical direction.
It was my fortune that the soil was dry, which meant it was not recently drenched by rain. It made digging a lot easier, and less time consuming than the alternative scenario. I wasn't digging for too long, though. I was five and a half feet myself and only a few claw motions allowed my fingers to break the soil's crumbling surface. Then my hand broke through, then an arm, then the other limb until I could lift my head above the surface and gasp for precious earthly air.
I was reminded of the time I met Tourniquet, before almost sinking to my death in that bottomless pit but it was not a pleasant memory, especially without him here to save me now.
I lifted my body up and collapsed face down, turned away from my grave. I laid my head sideways against the dirt, then yanked my blouse hanging loose from my face with a wild gasp. My eyes wandered to the makeshift wooden cross beside my grave, marked 'John Doe.' Below it, someone crudely scrawled with a knife: 'Dr. Meyers.' I shut my eyes and cringed, gritted my teeth, and let the tears wet the soil beneath my face. I had to wonder. Was he trapped in his grave, just as I was? If so, did he stand a chance at making it out?"