I need five cubic meters of cotton wool...

...and a big burly bloke named Bruce to take care of me while I'm down.

Today's embuggerance is sponsored by the Internet, a finished novel, asthma, heavy anxiety, and my general disability to cope with multiple crises at once.

  • I have finished writing B'Nar
  • Which may be a contributing factor in today's anxiety spike
  • I'm having a Clayton's Asthma Attack
  • Which may also contribute to said anxiety spike
  • The internet connection to the outside world is fucking DEAD
  • Which definitely contributes to the anxiety
  • Because phone data co$$$$t$
  • Mayhem's school doesn't like how sick Mayhem's been, lately
  • Which paints me into a corner, because despite sick notes etc, they're not letting him take any more days off
  • Which means I have to truck him over there regardless of health
  • Which means I am a bad parental, no matter what I do
  • The FUCK?!

At least I can deal with the asthma by giving myself a saline dose on Max. The rest of it is more or less out of my control. I can't really stop panicking about B'Nar until my subconscious recognises that everything's DONE and it's now down to the peeps who are actually going to get back to me about things.

I can't really panic about the internet budget because I'm doing my level best out here to do what I can as quick and as best as I can. Tremula and pins and needles in my fingers and impaired visual acuity because of the nebuliser mask are all roadblocks on my past and...

...damnit...

I'm doing my best. It feels like running a damned marathon.

I just need someone to take over whilst I'm being frail, over here.