The update:
As of an undisclosed time on 11/19 I have 24,876 words.

Morale:
I was really looking forward to crossing that halfway point, but it was too hard to type in the fetal position.

Nevertheless, I'm more optimistic about this whole crazy endeavor - I'm back to thinking I can make it.

Something I wrote:

I get a cat. I come home from work and feed my cat. I sometimes pet it while I sit, reading. I�ve gathered that this is something you�re supposed to do. I�m not entirely clear on why, but it doesn�t ask for much, this animal in my house, and I�m trying to fit in, trying to learn a new life. The cat somehow seems to be a part of that.

I know I�m also supposed to name it, but I haven�t managed to do that yet. The only name that really seems right is "Loki". It has his eyes. I consider calling it "Fenris", who has the same eyes, but that�s almost as troubling. Ultimately I take to calling it - on those few occasions I feel compelled to call it anything - "cat". It seems to be getting used to that, and I consider the matter closed.

My new life is dull. Numbing. I love it for that. I still think of Loki, but my thoughts are less tormenting now that I can imagine that he�s faded into a myth. I imagine him loose, roaming, free from pain. I wonder if he�ll find me. I wonder if he�ll understand about the cat.