- I have a stack of paperwork and running around to do to get all my ID changed to my new old name: passport, social security card, driver's license. I may punt all this, because I am planning on moving to Massachusetts, after all, and there seems very little point in getting all my ID squared away so I can go and do it again in four months. Yes, I am really that lazy. *Operates under an alias.*
- I have a car to buy.
- I have a house to co-buy.
- Once I do that, I will have to sort the Massachusetts health insurance system thing.
- I have no work to do, and yes, this is stressing me out, because I have work I could be doing, but none of it is actually work it would avail me to be doing, right now. And work is one of the steady joys in my life. I write so many books because I love finishing things. It feels to me like justifying my existence. Which is to say, in specific:
- There are the revisions for The Stratford Man, aka Ink & Steel and Hell & Earth. I know what I want to do to improve the books, but I am waiting for my editor's edit letter, so I know what she thinks needs to be done to improve the books.
- There are the revisions for All the Windwracked Stars. See above.
- Delivery money for those books will not arrive until approximately a month until after I make the revisions, return them, and my editors approve same.
- I am as a result of that and the car and house nonsense, having some what you might call cash-flow issues, which will be resolved when all this is taken care of, but you know, right now, pretty broke thanks.
- There is an 850-word science fiction story to write. No idea what to write about. None.
- There is "King Pole, Gallows Pole, Bottle Tree" to de-suck and make something interesting of. No idea how to do that yet. None.
- There is Bone & Jewel Creatures to write. No idea how to write it yet. None.
- There is Wehrwolf to write. No idea how to write it yet. None. My head is full to bursting with unripe stories.
- There is Chill to write. No idea how to write that either. I did get a six-week extension on the deadline, thank God.
- There's my reading to do for Viable Paradise, and the in-depth critiques to write.
- Oh, and I have some Ideomancer slush to read, too.
- There is a killer convention schedule next year. I suspect I may wind up bailing on some of it, which would make me sad, but... I have limits. And the money may not be there. (See above, car, house. Trip to Africa in 2009.)
- I am so stressed out by all of the above that I can't concentrate to read, watch television, play guitar, or do mathy things for more than a couple of minutes at a time. None of it pleases me.
...okay, that might not have made things seem more finite.
Thank god for my regular gym dates with ashacat, and for the Secrit Projekt, because those are the things keeping me sane. Because we are working on the Secrit Projekt in weird nonlinear bits and pieces, the fact that I have the stress-related attention span of a monarch butterfly on a bender currently doesn't matter. But the Secrit Projekt is fun. It's like a game. Like an RPG, only everybody's playing all the characters and we're all the game masters.
You know, I could use an RPG campaign right about now. That would be a good distraction. Or maybe somebody to snuggle with on weekends, because man, I could use a lap right about now.
It's been a busy decade.
So there you have it. I suspect I need to just declare fall of 2007 a professional writeoff, until the edits come in, and play a lot of Chuzzle. Because that's what I've got. And this is my second anxiety attack in two weeks, and I do not like anxiety attacks.
Right now, I'm going to make some popcorn, watch this DVD on trekking Kili, and daydream, though.