Update:
As of an undisclosed time on what is technically the morning of 11/26 I have 33,354 words.

Morale: Good, for reasons I'm too tired to elaborate on, except to say that I worked out a major plot kink, and it fixed several structural problems and set up lots o' new material.

Excerpt:

"So my new therapist says I’m hostile." I sit back and wait for reassurances to the contrary.

"Oh, yeah," says David.

"Totally," says Vanessa.

"You’ve got to be one of the most hostile people I’ve ever met," says the guy next to Vanessa, who I’m pretty sure I haven’t even been introduced to yet.

"You are Queen Hostilia of Hostilevania."

"Marshal Hostito of Hostileslavia."

"Hostilla the Hun."

"Mayor of Hostile la Vista, California."

"Mother Theresa, if she were like, really really hostile, and Calcutta was Bengali for ‘Hostiletown’."

"Would you people shut the hell up?"

"See? Hostile."