Fuck Off Anxiety!

Thursday, Leyland's Tour and Pitch Adventure

Procrastination and Anxiety are holding the wheel, today. I am being social with Better Authors(tm), I am prepping the abbreviated pitch kits just for one pitching arena. I am also driving Mayhem to and from APM in less than half an hour.

In wet weather. On roads full of freaking maniacs.

WHEEEE...

I think that wrapping my loaves in plastic might be the wrong idea. So I've put them in paper bags and seeing if that helps my loaves stay proper for the duration. I think they might be turning into sods once their moisture is trapped in plastic.

Experimentation meets superstition, maybe. But if it works, it works.

My wrists are hurting me despite my best efforts to not have them hurt. Boo and hiss.

There will be offerings.

There may also be a panic attack.

Tuesday, Day 0, Patreon Due

Six new cases this morning, leaving a total of thirty-eight active cases and all of them are in hospital. Yeeks with beaks, folks. Bunkering too hard to tell the difference between me and a hermit at a glance.

I'm posting my Patreon nonsense today. And I haven't written enough other nonsense to supply my $1 Patreons. I need to complete something real soon now or my Patrons are SOL... And so am I because I can't afford to suspend fees again. Plague

Thursday, Day 4, Anxiety...

I've been online in one form or another since the 90's and I still don't know how to handle making someone angry on the internet. Which is why I'm awake at 1AM with no inclination to work on the journal because random shakes are a thing.

Fun times [/sarcasm].

Not planning to play the victim card, that's not a good look. I shall carry on in my beliefs, and work to be a better person by learning about things. It's the only

Fucking Anxiety at it Again

Whenever I try something big-for-me, there's always that spike of utter, abject terror that ends up with me hurting myself in strange and interesting ways.

For instance, yesterday I spilled hot soup on myself.

I wasn't hungry (warning sign) so I made myself a big ol' undertow mug of chicken stock broth. In the process of transferring the cup from the electric kettle stand to the bench where I planned to stir in the cream, I bumped the mug against the edge

I did it!

I sent Adapting off and now the waiting game begins. The last potential publisher gets to wait until July or the other lot gets back to me, whichever happens first. They are my last, best hope (help me Obi-Wan Kenobi...). One gets back in 30 days, so word by the 12th of March or they don't want me. Their loss.

But I did it. I was brave and sent off the files they demanded. Yay me. Now I have most of an

Why panic about this?

My anxiety is kicking my arse again. Or maybe the word is "still". I don't even know why I'm so hyped up about today. Most of the things I have to fret about are pretty much taken care of.

Mayhem doing tests - big whoop. It's a lot of hurry up and wait followed by brief intervals of people doing their thing. We're not going to get results for ages, either.
Today's Wordpress thing - big whoop. I have five potential article

Firkin Anxiety

Yesterday was quite a bit more adventure than I was prepared to deal with. I was following the busses to Brisbane to visit the Kelvin Grove campus of QUT so I could keep an eye out on Miss Chaos whilst she had a fun day of learning.

Which would have been fine except I misplaced the busses at the very last turn and got the first parking space I could achieve.

As I predicted, I got frelling lost. I got absolutely, hopelessly,