25,320

This month is NaNoWriMo. I've spent many nights writing until 4am, suffering for it the next day. Some days I didn't write at all, which I felt very guilty about, but not guilty enough to actually do something about it. I am the Queen of all procrastinators. "Put off today what you can do tomorrow" is my motto. So, of course I'm not at the word count I should be at. Today, I should reach 31,673 words. There's no way I'll get even close unless the writing fairy sprinkles her magical word dust on me. But, I'm not down, I'm not out. Last night, at around 3am, I passed the halfway point. That's right, I'm now at 25,320 words. Over the hump. I celebrated by eating half of a cake. Probably not the best thing to do that late at night (or early in the morning, depending on how you look at it.) It's all downhill from here.

Here's an excerpt (unpolished and up until this point, not even reread)

Three hours later Melissa groggily opened her eyes and prayed to the goddess of java to deliver her from her caffeine withdrawal. This time, coffee beat the Jacuzzi as Melissa opted for a quick shower to wash of the grime of international travel. Deciding the day was too nice to stay in her hotel and feeling just a bit adventurous, she rummaged through her carry on for the travel-size Portuguese-English glossary/phrase book and picked up her purse, wallet already full of Brazilian Reals. She remembered a promising sidewalk café about a half a block away and made her way towards it in full on addict mode.

The café was right where she remembered it, but on closer inspection it much more than promising, it was heaven. The cases close to the counter were filled with the most delectable looking pastries and sweets and the smell of good, strong espresso wafted out onto the sidewalk, begging her to get her fix. After ogling the pastries, Melissa selected a chocolate croissant and a double espresso and sat down at an outside table. The sidewalk was shaded by huge fichus tree, about 100 times bigger than any fichus Melissa had ever seen. After the waiter brought her the goods and taking the edge off the caffeine headache that was starting to set in, she started checking out the other patrons sharing her chocolate/caffeine vice. Nobody caught her eye until it reached the counter, where Mr. Tall, dark and handsome was having a “discussion” with what appeared to be the owner of the café. Wavy black hair that brushed his collar, faded red t-shirt, broken in blue jeans hanging on his hips, brown leather sandals all added up to puddle-making material. The things I would do to him…uh uh, dangerous territory. His arms were gesticulating madly, finally pointing towards a painting that Melissa hadn’t noticed before.

Well, I've got to get back to writing. I've got a lot of catching up to do and there's only 11 days, 13 hours, 18 minutes and 52 seconds left. 51, 50, 49...