I am suddenly. A mess.

It's amazing how quickly my spirits can deflate.

I spent today futzing. Fritzing. Putzing.

Well, that's not exactly true. I read the story for critique, called "Allegiance". Masterful piece of work that is.

I started writing my story for Booth, and immediately realized there's no way, no how I'm going to do this justice. Like, ten words in, I just wanted to curl up into a ball and disappear. The idea is still appealing to me...I just need a way...in. It's funny, how easy it is for me to knock off thousands upon thousands of words during Novel Writing Month. And now that it matters what words I'm putting down, I'm stressing out just reaching 1000 words.

(when the goal is about 3000.)

And it's worse than that - I've neglected laundry, I've neglected shopping.

I even tried writing at songs today, and every little thing I'm hearing sounds boring and trite.

Gnn!

I.
Am.
Nauseous.

What's going to happen?

j.