In May I entered a short story in my first ever contest. I must confess, I'm becoming more than a little antsy over it. I know I've done everything I can, and that getting antsy does me no good, but there it is.
I'm the kid who refused to touch the Christmas presents for fear I'd guess what was inside, or worse... want to open it so badly that it ruined the surprise all together. As an adult I don't get overly worked up over things, especially trips, at least not until the night before then I panic because of course, there are a million and one things to do before hand.
But now, the suspense is horrible. I think I've done a fairly decent job keeping a lid on it up to this point, but looking at the calendar and realizing that sometime between now and October 16th I'll either have done well in what could be a life-changing way, or not... it's nerve racking. It's hair splitting. I want to pace my desk and work my fingers down to the quick just to keep from looking at that damn calendar one more time.
What's worse, is the writing isn't happening right now. I think that's worse than the waiting by far. I feel like all my creative umph is just gone. I know technically it's not, but some days it feels that way. I've been reading everything I can get my hands on, and some things I'd never consider reading on a bet, just to replenish the words.
Perhaps all of this is just work related stress, finally rearing its head again. It seems like the times of year when I'm over stressed at work, my writing becomes scarce to nonexistent. Then again, maybe I just need more sleep, and a change... if I knew, I wouldn't be ranting about it!
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