Why, do you ask? Three reasons:
1) I like any reason to make lists, especially if I can use bullet points. Double-especially if AMBITIOUS PLANS are involved.
2) I've had a headache for fourteen days now, and it's starting to impair my judgment.
3) I finally broke down and took painkillers for said headache, and right on the bottle it warns that it may impair my judgment (and ability to operate motor vehicles).
1) Write a metric fuckton*.
*It should be noted that metric fuckton is a relative term and should be related to Little Red's traditional amount of writing which is not really that much at all except that one time that fyca showed up at her doorstep and offered her chocolate if and only if she wrote 30,000 words in the final four days of NaNo.
In this case, we will define metric fuckton as 100,000 words. (My real goal is of course the 25,000 words necessary for het_bigbang, but I prefer to fail into excellence.)
Here, have a bar:
6,688 ★ 100,000
I have things on it because I am back-counting everything since Memorial Day, a.k.a. The Beginning of Summer, a.k.a. The Day I Got the Idea to Track Things in Excel Because Then I Can Make Graphs Mocking How Much Dancing With the Stars I Write.
Speaking of mockworthy things I plan to write and how much I like lists, I ran out and bought gigantic post-it pads of my very own and wrote up a bunch of things I want to write:
So. Yes. That.
2) Get a bangin' bod.
Don't panic, I don't mean losing weight. I really mean "get strong and look fucking fierce." I'm physically healthier than I have been since high school, and yes, watching Dancing With the Stars made me want to get ripped. Maybe I too want to walk around in bedazzled loincloths made of tassels and magical fairy glitter. Don't judge me.
It may not have occurred to you as you read my stream-of-consciousness plan-ramblings, but it has occurred to me that writing all the damn time is not particularly conducive to looking impossibly fly (although I understand the pale, unshowered look is in post-Twilight). Who wants to build me an exercycle laptop desk thing?
You know, the longer I stare at the phrase "bangin' bod," which I used because it sounds like a hilarious 80s throwback, the more awful it seems, and yet I can't bring myself to think of an equally entertaining replacement term.
3) Pimp my style.
For reasons I cannot fathom, people tell me that they really like my clothes. I don't even think they're joking. I'm actually a big fashion admirer and probably really love the shoes you're wearing and really want to know where you got that bracelet, and I do care about how I look, but I only buy like two things a year. As a result, I wear the same things a lot. I get a completely ridiculous amount of mileage out of a short black wrap skirt that cost $1.50 at Goodwill ten years ago, and I still wear a shirt or two that I got in high school. In the late nineties. (No, thank god, these shirts do not bear the words "co-ed naked.")
So my wardrobe could use a little sprucing up to go with all the vanity I will acquire with my aforementioned bangin' bod. (God, that really is a horrible term, isn't it? I'm going to just call it my fuck off I'm awesome bod.)
SO THERE IT IS. MY SUMMER*. Hey, it could happen.
*including September because of the Big Bang and all.