My best friend of 30 years and the few other warm-blooded lovelies close to me would agree on a few things about my character beyond odd. For example, my constant “I’m doing this!”-athons that carry on until that particular episode is over.

Such as the FollowMeToNYC roots born of my claim, “Alright Australia, I need a New York City break for a few years… let’s blog til we get there.”

I’m not sure if it’s just the Virgo in me or happens to be my regular bored with everything let’s do something outrageous approach to Earth, but I regularly find myself setting goals way beyond my seeming reach.

I’m seriously amazed the puppies are here…

All of these things ran through my head tonight while I continued to read and piece files. Make new stuff up. Get rid of old ick. And somehow shape a novel.

I’ve decided to deal with 2,000 words a day. This seems reasonable to me. Considering I spend so much time setting completely unrealistic achievements like, “Watch me ¬†build a Connecticut Ashram for Artists and Others to escape to and chakra balance every solstice…” I reckon a logical goal like 2,000 words won’t be too rough.

I’m quite predictable in ways like this. I demand some sort of general order to my life when things get crazy as they do. Like when I busted out the Tale of Tarot serialized piece because I couldn’t get my blog on for a minute…

So here’s to 2,000 words. Two is my favorite number, and I’m officially running this project from the 22 to the 22.

I’ve been blogging about a novel coming for nearly three years… I got this.