When you're waiting for your divorce to be final; have just had a car-breakdown scare; are trying to figure out how to help your mom buy a house; are wondering if you might be moving in February; and waiting for not one, not two, but three novel-length edit letters to arrive (all of which books have to be back by November 1--oh, and did we mention that Viable Paradise is in the middle of that? and that there will be at least one set of page proofs between now and then, because apparently Dust is coming out on Boxing Day?); you might forgive yourself for feeling a little overwhelmed. (Not to mention all the shit that's not actually your shit, but which you are borrowing stress on anyway.)
Not that this excuses you from writing the two novellas and
Even if you do have to start writing Chill in January and you're still not sure what it's about.
Still, you know. Breathe. And to work through the last chapter or two of that algebra book. Make lists and cross things off them. Go read a book. Keep trying to like the Pixies, other than Cactus and Bone Machine. Thinking also counts as work around here.
Screaming may help, occasionally, too. Or talking to the plants. Talking to the cat just gives her ideas.
Also, you might as well mail your rent check. It will not mail itself.
And randomly ego-googling yourself because you are stressed out and want reassurance that you don't suck is as likely to produce people who think you're a wanker as people who really, really like your books, so the net benefit is probably negligible. Although the fact that you seem to be wasting nonproductively massive amounts of time that you could be wasting productively (say, watching Farscape or something***) should serve as an indicator that you might be a little stressed out.
Nobody except you (and maybe Bill Schafer) expects you to be invincible, invulnerable, impervious, bulletproof, ten feet tall, and inexhaustible.*
Also, you really need
Of course, it occurred to me this morning that all my financial worries would be over if I'd just write some books with heterosexual people in them...
State of the email download: 30 August 2006. One more year to go! Yes, I did leave it running all night. Eudora is the little email program that could.
*N.B.:This is not a request for pats on the head. It's actually more part of my ongoing quest to remind myself that I don't have to be Superwoman, and that attempting to be Superwoman is actually a good way to turn yourself into a fruitbat.**
**So now of course I'm sitting here stressing about posting this, because it presents the appearance of vulnerability, and we all know vulnerability is bad, right? See above, Superwoman.
***Yes, I do consider that productive. Or more productive than endlessly hitting refresh on livejournal, much as I love you all.