NaNoWriMo

UGH I still cannot figure out how to put up a NaNoWriMo widget on this blog, so I guess I'll just have to do it this way: I'VE WRITTEN 34316 WORDS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Which is surprisingly above par as of today, but I'm seriously out of ideas...
But this is a writing blog and I have to post WRITING, but NaNoWriMo is seriously sucking every last drop of writing inspiration in me.
And I do not want to share the novel I'm writing for NaNoWriMo...it sucks way too much. I am very ashamed of it.

So here's a little quickwrite-ish thing that I thought of a few minutes ago when staring blankly at the computer screen, with no new ideas for my novel. Kindly excuse the horrible grammar and way too many sentences starting with "I" and "the."

  I stood on the wet concrete deck of the swimming pool, the tips of my toes just barely hanging over the edge of the deck. The surface of the pool was still and unbroken, dancing with hundreds of shades of gorgeous blue. The deck created a short shadow about two or three feet, making the water a beautiful turquoise. Staring down at the clean tile at the bottom of the twelve-foot pool, I envisioned myself plunging into the cool, glorious water.

 I looked at the other side of the pool, where there were several men and women holding stopwatches and chatting amongst themselves. Then, directly disobeying my coach, I sneaked a peek on both sides of me, checking out the seven girls that were my competition.

             Suddenly, a long, shrill whistle pierced the noisy air, and I took the cue. Standing atop the white diving board, I made sure my goggles were tight for the millionth time, and peered at the other girls again. A familiar swarm of frantic butterflies flapped in my stomach.

A mechanical-sounding man’s voice stated, “Swimmers, take your marks.” I positioned my back leg, and lined the toes of my front leg up with the edge of the board as I had done so many times before. Then, leaning over to grasp the edge of the board, I took a deep breath. The edge of the hard, wet plastic felt familiar under my fingers. I bent my head down low, staring at the serene water, focusing on the spot I wanted to dive into.

The spilt second the all-too familiar sound of the buzzer hit my ears, I pushed off the board with my legs, assembled my arms in a tight streamline, and broke the surface of the cold water with a splash.