No time off for good behaviour

I'm feeling contrained. Although this is perhaps not the best image to describe it. Mentally handcuffed rather than literally. After all, being handcuffed while trying to bash out the words is completely wrong.
First week down, lots of action, altogether too many characters, who have a tendency to waffle on (but no drinking or eating, apparently my previous works have suffered from an over indulgence of drinking and eating, so this lot, as well as not going to the toilet, aren't scoffing). They're drinking though, although for some reason I've yet to discover, drinking booze. The story is morphing at the moment, I guess thats the way it goes while writing from the seat of your pants. I've had a good five chapters building everything, and now have the unenviable task of getting them through the next bit. This is the time (just over 14,000) where I find it difficult, and want to give up.
But I'm not going to. I know that if I can get through this section I've loads of stuff to get to. Its a first draft, which in my case means there's lots of action, and suspense, but little in the way of descriptive passages. I never finish the first draft and have to cut stuff, I always have to go back over and add details, make it more descriptive. It's tempting to just go back over what I've got and build up the wordcount this way, but I'm not going to do that, November is for moving onwards, not editing.
So, more coffee. My playlist from November 1st worked for a while, but now I'm back to another, older playlist, and I'm amazed at how blasting Abba into both ears is really working on the more psychotic scenes. My villain especially comes to life to the old favorites, becoming more evil with every pass of 'Take a chance on me.' Who would have thunk it?
Missing blogging. Missing twitter, Wishing November was over. Just have to keep going, dying for week three!