November drags to a close and I could not be happier. It’s been a pretty great month, all around, but as I sit here writing this, I am wrapped in blankets, wearing my long underwear once again. We made it though the first large snow, and gas levels rose, and my room was warm again. We got hit again, on Thanksgiving, which almost made it so I couldn’t get to Baku for our weekend Thanksgiving celebration.
The dinner, hosted at the charges d’affair (the second-in-command at the embassy)’s house, was absolutely. The cooking staff made us five huge turkeys, and we provided the rest. There were multiple gravies, mashed potatoes, rolls, stuffings, and tons of pies, cookies, and delicious desserts. After the meal, we had a talent show, though thankfully, participation was not mandatory (ha! Thankfully! Pun not intended when I started the sentence, but left in intentionally). Highlights included humorous excerpts from one volunteer’s diary from when she was 12, a ukulele song, and an original song about Azerbaijan to the tune of “We Didn’t Start the Fire.” Finally, we left our poor hosts alone, so they could have their house back to themselves, free from the rampant horde that is the volunteer community.
We spent the weekend hosted at the homes of embassy staff. I ended up staying with a family that had lived in Indonesia several years after my family did. They had two great children, who I and the other volunteer staying there had fun playing with. Their son and I in particular had a good time playing Star Wars, which sent me back to my own childhood obsession with the films. He was also a great help when it came time to bake my contribution to the Turkey Day feast, pomegranate and chocolate chip cookies. All in all, we were completely pampered, with heat, with hot showers, with mattresses, with delicious food—including homemade pizza, good wine, coffee. A huge thank you to them for opening up their homes to us.
Returning to Ismayilli was considerably easier than leaving, though I found that once again the gas was low, and snow and ice still covering the ground. Once more I find myself counting down until the gas will be turned up. December 5th. While I understand that it is strange for it to be this cold so early, it seems strange to me that the gas cannot be raised as needed, especially in a country that is making billions on gas and oil. But, there’s nothing I can do about it, so I will curl up with my puppy, read a book, and wait till December 5th arrives.
Speaking of books, another reason I’m looking forward to the end of the month is the end of NaNoWriMo. I guess this could be considered a successful failure. A failure, because I didn’t reach 50,000 words, the goal of NaNo writers. A success, I suppose, because I wrote something. I reached 25,552 words, just over halfway, and I content to be done with it. Writing every day is unsurprisingly difficult, and took a lot of motivation, reminding me of my great skills of procrastination and distraction, which I was unable to completely conquer, though I had some days of 3,000 words or more.
I don’t know if I will ever pick up the story again. Not because the story isn’t one that I like, but it was one that I never got particularly inspired by. When inspiration hits, the words flow out onto the paper, but when I force myself to write, as I did this past month, writing becomes a chore, not a pleasure.
That's my biggest problem as a writer, that I cannot simply write for purpose and without inspiration. Its probably why I doubt I will ever become a professional writer.
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