First scene

It's always so hard to start writing in the morning. I look at the page and I think "I need to wow myself". Which inevitably causes me to stare at the screen, letting great idea after great idea pass me by. I have a tendency to think "do better", "go more outside the box", "what else can you think of?" before I've even explored the idea in my head fully. I think that's why I like nano. Because I am forced to go with whatever idea I have at the time, and to flesh it out.

I think we all suffer from "but what about this gem?!", we want to tell too many stories in so little time, that we don't spend the time on one story to really tell it to people.

The best option is to take that idea and run it into the ground. If I don't, then I'll be lost forever in what-ifs and coulda-beens. I need the discipline to sit down and write what I need to write, not what I want to write. Which is a bit sad, but ultimately worth it.

So, on to writing.

"What are you planning for Thursday, sweetie?"
"Oh I don't know mom, probably a small party, I'll invite ProF and ProM of course, maybe some of my new coworkers..."
"And how is the new job going? It's so exciting! Much better prospects than I had at your age."
"It's alright, really, it's just a bit odd. I feel like everyone is looking at me, expecting me to take leave in a month exactly. It kind of gives me the creeps. There's a look in their eyes that is almost pleading."
"They're just jealous of you! You have the best end-job you could hope for, and you're about to become a mother!"
"Woh mom, I don't even have a Husband yet. Slow down. It'll probably take me a while to adjust to this new life I'm expected to live."
"Well it'll come darling, oh! I've got to go! Your father is coming in, he'll want his dinner warm."
"Night mom, love you."
"Night tweeters, love you too!"
MC placed the phone down on her granite kitchen top. The shine emanating from her clean counter was causing a migraine to form. She noted the hour on the microwave and sighed as she strolled off down the hallway to her bedroom closet. Pad pad pad pad, swish swish swish, thud thud, the sound of her feet stomping down the hallway was the only sound worthy of her ears in that moment. The swish swish of her legs passing each other in each step was a biproduct of the nylons she wore for her job. She remembered a time when wearing nylons for a job was out of the question for her. Who would subject themselves to heat and that fuzzy feeling all day? But then, she smiled, here she was, going on 10 hours in these stockings. She almost didn't notice them anymore. That was, until she got up from her desk, which was every 10 minutes. The powers that be, she thought to her self, the powers that are, there is no stopping them. And so she exasperatingly yanked the nylons down her legs as she contemplated which dress to wear out tonight.

A warm, balmy fall day, she didn't need a jacket, nor her purse. There would be plenty of men out and about tonight. Some of them might even be lucky enough to buy her a drink, she was feeling a bit frisky- or was it a bit lonely? Ever since her test was announced, she knew her time was up. I might as well live it up, she thought. Just as she was rearranging her corset, she saw ProF walk around the corner. Great minds think alike! Off she ran in her 6 inch wedged heels.
"Hey! ProF! Whatcha up to tonight?"
"Oh hey MC, I was just looking to blow some steam, a couple of corporate junkies lost my contract today, idiots really."
"Oh, well come with me! I'm celebrating the last few free days I've got!"
"Oh don't tell me that! I'll be due in 5 months too ya know. I don't want to hear it!"

-synopsis-
MC is on the cusp of turning thirty. The eve of her examination is drawing to a close and tomorrow she will be deemed conceivable, or inconceivable. She is at home, going through the daily mail- a bunch of propaganda selling her marriage services and baby clothes. The world expects her to have done her job right, to have prepared herself to be conceivable. Why would anyone choose to live a life otherwise?