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Last night I broke 40,000 words towards my NaNoWriMo 2006 goal.
When I say "broke" I mean beat, misused, bent, wedged, abused and emotionally shattered 40,000 of those little guys. Since it is "speculative fiction", and based on a future USA, I took our proud tradition of hybridizing words by slapping stuff together and accelerated it a few centuries to combine things that shouldn't be combined and redefine other things that should mean something into techno-babble that probably does not.
My plot line turned against me. I had no choice. Southerners use a lot of off-the-record, unofficial contractions. I have to make up those lost words somehow.
At work I've been regressing a bit and have mostly closed in the entrance to my cubicle with a shoddily-constructed fort made out of stacked Dell server boxes.
Fire hazard? Maybe. Hella fun? Oh, yeah.
Unfortunately, this has resulted in a lot of thrown paper balls and airplanes. I know from experience that it is only a matter of time before an arms race develops with people throwing larger and progressively more pointy things until someone loses an eye.
This is why I.T. people should wear safety goggles. Well, that and the "cool factor" safety goggles add.