nothing went according to plan. i didn't finish my fifty thousand word novel in thirty days. i got to forty thousand when my journey was abruptly halted by the usual bizarre personal tragedy. i am currently typing left-handed and poorly, i might add, as i sit in a bed at my mother's house recuperating from surgery on my dominant right hand which was made necessary by a freak casserole dish accident. the saturday after thanksgiving, an evil zombie casserole dish tried to kill me while i was kindly scrubbin' it clean. i was washing the dish after a belated birthday celebration for my husband at my mother's house when it slipped from my yellow rubber-gloved hands. i tried to catch it, but instead it broke and slashed through my wrist in a more serious manner than a suicide attempt. five inches long and mighty wide and deep, the cut included four cut tendons and a cut nerve. there was a stem off the cut nerve that controls sensation in the palm side meaty part below the thumb that was too damaged to repair and will likely never work again. i am facing physical therapy and weeks and weeks of healing. it will take years for my nerve to function properly if it ever does. i am sad. gruesome photos.

out to nanowrimo. see you next month.