How do you spell stress? D-E-A-D-L-I-N-E.
If I don't have an ulcer by mid July I'll be shocked. I have tried so hard not to make a big deal about it, or talk about it to anyone, because a) everyone bent over backwards for my last deadline to help me so much, and I do NOT want anyone feeling like they need to do anything again, and b) because it's my own stupid fault for being such an idiotic procrastinator. But I'm on the precipice of another breakdown much like the one I had a few weeks before my last deadline and the only way I can think of to untie some of the knots that have been multiplying in my stomach is to just put it out there.
I'M OUT OF MY MIND STRESSED ABOUT THE UPCOMING WEEK.
There. One knot down, 48,611 to go.
Another reason why I can't complain? Because most of my stress centers around the fact that my cake side business has suddenly decided to take off. I've waited a year for people to want to hire me to make cakes for them and now it's finally happening--at the exact time I need to be focusing on my book. Exciting? Yes. Horrible timing? Double yes. The universe laughing at me? Absolutely. Of course, had I started working on the edits/additions to my book over a month ago when I first knew about it, I wouldn't be in this crappy position. But, between the end of the school year, Cub Scout Day Camp, and, oh yeah, CAKES, life just didn't offer up a whole lot of time for writing. Now, six weeks after typing The End (figuratively, not literally), I sit down to the computer and think, "What was my story about again?" It's like I've subconsciously blocked it all out, like my brain was traumatized by a novel-writing overload and now shies away from it as a defense mechanism. Just give me one more week, brain. One teeny tiny little week. That's all I ask.
One bright spot on my black canvas of doom? My cover. I saw it. And it is a-mazing. Amazing doesn't even cut it. It's pretty much the best cover in the known world. Honestly, I'm a little worried it trumps my story. At least it'll get people to buy it. But seriously, it thrills me to no end and any time throughout the day that I need a quick pick-me-up (so, hourly), I just look at my cover and life gets awesome.
Are you done listening to me whine and complain about all my dreams coming true at once? Me too. I'm going to bed.
