Frustration

So, the original plan was to write the approx 120k word draft of a mortal god before New Years and then set out on the 20 novels of the 2007 year.

Plans suck.
I'm soo bad at them.

So I was sitting there yesterday with 20k words. I think to myself that if there's 100k to go, I might as well make that Book 1 of the new year. That means not touching it until January 1 and then going on my already-decided 5k daily pace. Shouldn't be a biggie, 'specially as I've hardly touched it since coming home for Christmas.

Now, of course, that I've made this decision, what's the only thing I want to do? That's right: write the damn thing. Stupid writing.

I also have 6 other story ideas that I'm hoping last out 100k words. I'll also need to think of a few more, or I'll run out pretty quickly.

And it's 3 something in the morning. I should be in bed. Not worrying about writing, not worrying about my stupid semester grades, not posting on the blog. In bed. Sleeping.