I need to acquire a pair of solid black Manx cats, and name them Chaos and Mayhem. So I have someone tangible to blame when things go to shit. As it is, I hold myself accountable, and that…just sucks. Can't muck about in denial when you're the only one around to blame.
The FOAT edits are going well, on track to be completed before the deadline. It's been stressful though, and engaged much of my spare time. Thus the one-week delay in getting Black's excerpt up. Not that it takes a great deal of effort to cut/paste a scene into a post, but…gah. I manage to stress out about anything and everything. So I went through the whole ordeal of "what's an appropriate excerpt for a muse with a novel-length story" and a bunch of other OMGWTFBBQ shit that was utterly useless and unneeded, to say the least.
It's the one thing I seem to excel at. Spectacularly. Yep that's me, The Worrywart.
One year ago, I wanted nothing more than to have the entire year just fast-forward and be over with.
Now? Well. I'm glad I slogged through the changes and challenges and experienced the good energy that came my way as well.
Hopefully the coming year will have as much, if not more, to offer.
Thanks to the delay of my mild writer-panic, Black's "Origins" post will be bumped back to the 20th, and the interview to the 27th.
One of these days I'll actually find a groove for my writing, a schedule of time allocation that doesn't leave me feeling like a flailing, beached marine mammal.
I'm working on it. Habits take time to form. I try to remember to take time for myself, between writing and the day job. Sometimes it seems like I can't do all three without one suffering. So I try to switch it up, and disburse the butt-hurt as evenly as possible. That's my solution, for the time being. Morning yoga seems to help get me moving more quickly than caffeine or nicotine, though, and it's a great "me time" activity. Not to mention, I need to move my scrawny butt around and get exercise. Not the aerobic sort, I don't need to be burning more calories. But awakening the body helps get the mind out of first gear. And if I can make a routine out of it, a habit of actually regulating my breathing would be a good thing also. Beats the hell out of succumbing to mild panic attacks, which I apparently do rather often. There's that Worrywart thing again. J
So that's my wholly unintentional New Year's Resolution. Yoga every morning. Need to get myself a mat. Mainly because my carpet smells horrid when I bury my nose in it. Can't wait until spring gets here, and I can put the mat out on the front porch to do my morning yoga. Hopefully by that point I'll be familiar enough with the positions and routines that I can do it by ear, without visual prompts. I'm almost there.
Mmm. Yoga in the mornings, on the front porch. I'm liking that idea.
That's my ramble for the day, though. Back to the edits…