Well, I don’t know about YOUR brain, but this is definitely the state of mine at present.
I’m at 24K and writing to the soundtrack of my crazy neighbor cackling in her front yard. If you are unfamiliar with my neighbor from FABULOUS, here is a brief description:
I live next to a woman who cackles like an evil witch in a Halloween cartoon and decorates her trees with white plastic bags filled with cat feces. She also hurls turds in the road and drives over them until they look like little Frisbees. When deer wander through neighbors’ yards, she runs over with a bag full of bread and pegs them with slices while screeching, “Precious! Hey, precious! Who’s precious?”* Her backyard is a junkyard of stop signs and warped metal, and her husband moves through life with a beer can soldered to his hand. Even rolling the trashcans to the street is done one-handed, because the other is busy holding his beer. On holidays their adult children come over for a good old-fashioned family screaming match, done outside so that everyone can serve as the audience. I live in a lovely house in a lovely neighborhood, but if I could, I’d pick up my lovely house and carry it over to my former crappy neighborhood, where everyone was drunk/high but knew how to be quiet and to not throw feces in the road.
NaNoWriMo is grinding me to dust. I hear the Olympics are going on, but I’ll have to catch up on those in September with YouTube videos.
* She makes me miss my old neighbors, who transformed their home into a drug den and stuck steak knives in their windowsills. The police stopped by every few months to pick up someone violating parole or to return their three dogs happily gamboling down the streets unattended. Strange cars full of tattooed folks came and went at all hours, some going inside the house and others staying in the driver’s seat ready to make a quick getaway. But they were always polite and quiet, and I didn’t mind opening my front door to find all three dogs crowded on the landing with thrilled expressions because they’d gotten out again. Mr. Rottweiler, Mr. Pit Bull, and Mr. Chihuahua were good pals.