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She doesn’t pause to drink, only walks in and straight for her computer. There were at least 15 thugs loitering around the front steps of her apartment entrance when she got home, and if that one entrance were the only way in she probably would have slept in her car.

There’s a termite on her bathroom floor. She kills it quietly and changes her toilet paper roll. Then she goes for the computer, without pausing to drink. Where has she come from? A walk, five long miles in the cold for a little fitness. There’s a half-marathon in June she’s shelled out $140 for, so come hell or high shin splint, she’ll be there and she’ll be ready.

She pauses to drink here.

Monique is in a very good mood. The work out has somehow caffeinated her spirits and the energy broiling inside her rib cage just might lift her off her seat. She wants to use that energy to study for the GMAT because she is clear in mind and body and ready to take on rational numbers and irrational thoughts about lifting off her seat and also failing the GMAT. She furiously digs her teeth into her thumb knuckle, scratches a non-existent itch on her wrist and gets lost for a full minute in all the unread books on her bookshelf.

Today she discovered the magnificent tweets of Jen Statsky and almost had a stroke upon waking this morning to the realization that it was still not Friday. On the bright side, she also woke with a radiant stream of words at the tip of her tongue, all of which, if strung together properly, formed quite the poetic verse. And the poetry stayed with her throughout the day, right on the bridge of her nose. In fact, the first email she opened read, “Good morning, I am out of pens,” and it was from a complete stranger. Monique found this oddly poetic and stored it for later. Now.

“I need a manicure,” she says aloud. Anything to keep her from staying on topic. The topic of which is, well, your guess is as good as mine. And then she saved this blog post and attended to her poetry, once again, shirking the novel in search of a less task-oriented task.

Walk away from this post knowing that this is the first line that popped into her head this morning: Never, ever, ever, ever give up doesn’t apply to every, every, everything.

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Monique Muro

Monique is an exceedingly happy human from LA. She runs the blog A Novel Quest, and writes. A lot.

Latest posts by Monique Muro (see all)

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