On NaNoWriMo (and other things) And a Letter

Listening to I've Got the World on a String by the one and only, Frank Sinatra. My lover. Like no other. Okay, I'll stop now.
Stressing over school. Mainly stats. Only stats. Please kill me with a blunt object.

Dear Statistics,

    You know that feeling of impending doom you feel before you get on an airplane? No, well, you know that feeling of impending doom I feel before I get on an airplane? Every time I do one of your problem sets, that's what I feel. And my brain gets scared and locks itself in a lead box, through which I cannot communicate with it. That's your fault. It would be really cool if you didn't make me cry anymore. It's not nice. 
    Sincerely, 
Sarah Jane Eller
    So, those of you who know me personally (probably the only people who read this blog are people who know me personally. Except for you random folks in Germany and Russia - shout out! Whaddup?) know that math gives me rashes. It also gives me panic attacks, hot flashes, and causes hyperventilation. They seriously need a warning label for statistics. I received a particularly poor grade for my last test, which I went to extra study sessions for, and actually studied for (as opposed to my first test, for which I did little preparation).
    That being said, I still have not completely decided if I'm going to participate in NaNoWriMo this month, as I have the last two years. (If you are unsure what NaNoWriMo is, click here for the full run-down... or write-down... sorry. ha ha. But to be brief, it stands for National Novel Writing Month, and you write a 50,000 word novel in the month of November.) I realize that my school work (read: stats) is going to require a lot of extra time and effort, but I also don't want to ruin my little record. I've won every time I've attempted it, and I don't want to stop now. It feels good to know that I can do it, and it feels even better when I do do it. (ha. doo-doo. Sorry. Again.) Know what I'm sayin'?
    Also: I do want to be a writer. Biggest ambition, right there. I will be teaching Latin, but in my down-time, I will be writing. Don't I need the practice now? I can promise you two things right now: first, I will never use stats again in my life. I will avoid it like those creepy zombie babies at Halloween stores (anyone else? I almost wet myself the first time I saw one). Secondly, if I don't pump out 50,000 words this month, I will regret it until the day I get published (I probably won't care after that, because, hey, I've got my book on the shelves, yo), and that day may never come.
    I'm not asking you, surferdudes of the interwebs, to justify my writing of a novel in lieu of applying myself in statistics. There is no question here. I will be (forcibly) choosing stats over my novel. So if it doesn't get finished in the 30 28 days left, that's why. And I want you to know. WITH THE INTERNET AS MY WITNESS (that's a lot of you) MY POTENTIAL FAILURE IS NOT MY FAULT.
    Blame statistics. 99.9% of the time, you're failure can be blamed on math. Math is always at fault. In the language of logic - shoutout to Brother Gil of eighth grade who taught me logic - "Math is always a fault-haver." Why couldn't I take logic instead of statistics?