I missed NaNo and I feel bad.

Yes, it's true. I opted out of National Novel Writing Month this year, the first time in several years that I have done so. I have of course participated and failed a few times, generally because of outside events interfering - a puppy being be the last time (I won't make that mistake again.) 
This year was different. Last year's participation was a success. I added 50,000 plus words to a novel that had been sitting idle for years and finished it. (At some point I'll take a look at it and begin an edit.) This year, however, has been a bit of a dry year. I tried Camp NaNoWriMo in July and actually wrote about 10,000 words on a new contemporary fantasy project I'm working on, but summer is always a difficult time for me to focus a lot on writing, so the project petered out with the arrival of a paddleboard. The main issue I've been facing is being without a space to write.
We're knee deep in renovations and have been for several months. I had had a corner of a junk room before that - hardly an inspiring place but it did allow for some privacy, an area to reflect, and a space for wrestling with my muse without a lot of distraction. That space is now being renovated and as an author, I'm now 'homeless' in the dining room. There are certainly better authors out there who can push by this minor impediment, but in all honesty, this has been a creative brick wall of sorts. The ideas are there - the imagery, the emotion, and the words - they just don't seem to make it down to my fingertips and the keyboard. 
The renos will end soon I hope, and then I move into my own office - my very own dedicated space to hone my craft. Until then, I couch surf as it were, and this single blog entry is me forcing my way through the doldrums of self pity to put pen to paper on something.