Twenty six pages

After a marathon session trying not to listen as a fox apparently slaughtering a pig outside, and the local youths drifted a car they'd "acquired" until the tyres fell off, I managed twenty six pages of my novel.
  You really know it's time to stop writing and go to bed when you can't remember how to spell "that". I hadn't forgotten how to spell kill or mutilate after the lads outside had apparently tired of the car and began trying to hotwire the engine of a tower crane in a building site about half a mile away. So after I finally realised that I'd spent ten minutes examining a really interesting paper clip, I called it off

   Anyway, as to what I wrote. I've just mainlined some caffeine and had a quick browse. I think I'll keep some it it. That will have to be saved to a new file since it has absolutely nothing to do with the subject of the novel I was supposed to be writing. It's funny how the mind, or is that just my mind, wanders when the body is craving sleep. Even I've never before written a sentence inside which the tense changes four times.  I'm just going to stick to my ten pages a day. It will take me longer to finish but at least I won't have to spend so much time deleting useless junk. Here's something I ran up at abut five thirty this morning. I think I had the local lads in mind.