Last night, as I was hovering around 12600 words (short of the daily goal, but not by much) I apparently wrote the following lucid thought right before I turned off the laptop and put it on the floor (I was typing in bed):

Lucikly, since moving in four years ago, the fire engines have only had to drive by the house a couple of times. One time they were creeping by and when I noticed them going very slowely in the road, I went out and found out that they were trying to track down room usage for the Adult Member room at the library.

That is some high quality crack I must have been smoking last night. Okay, really, I am even going to resist the urge to go in and delete that last sentence, because we do not edit our work in November under penalty of death. So to challenge myself, I'm going to try to make it make sense in the context of all the other nonsense in this "novel".