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Angst numero the uno: How pathetic is it that I've had several weeks and have only written about 2.8K of the 5K words I need to write to expand the novel (which is called The Z Radiant btw) for its publication?
Angst numero the dos: I applied for a permanent low rate credit card with the plan of transferring the balance of the one I now have, that is at quite a high rate, only to receive a form letter which informed me that I don't make enough money, my debt is too large, I don't make enough money, my debt is too large (it informed me in various wordings at least three times of each fact). Picture me, please, reading this form letter--the walls of the world closing in, the litany beginning, "I don't make enough money, my debt is too large, I'm all alone, I will never have a home of my own, I'm all alone, I can't take care of myself, my debt is too large, I don't make enough money..." Within moments I was deeply awash in anxiety and fear, all the walls closed in, the glass of those walls making everything weirdly distorted, strangely colored, and scarey as hell.
Thank goodness it was the evening of my massage. A walk in the late twilight and cool breeze, lots of breathing, and an incredible massage later, the anxiety was, um, mostly gone. Mostly. It's tenacious stuff.
The nifty upcoming event, this weekend (Austin residents, take notice): Water Ballet! With live music!
Angst numero the dos: I applied for a permanent low rate credit card with the plan of transferring the balance of the one I now have, that is at quite a high rate, only to receive a form letter which informed me that I don't make enough money, my debt is too large, I don't make enough money, my debt is too large (it informed me in various wordings at least three times of each fact). Picture me, please, reading this form letter--the walls of the world closing in, the litany beginning, "I don't make enough money, my debt is too large, I'm all alone, I will never have a home of my own, I'm all alone, I can't take care of myself, my debt is too large, I don't make enough money..." Within moments I was deeply awash in anxiety and fear, all the walls closed in, the glass of those walls making everything weirdly distorted, strangely colored, and scarey as hell.
Thank goodness it was the evening of my massage. A walk in the late twilight and cool breeze, lots of breathing, and an incredible massage later, the anxiety was, um, mostly gone. Mostly. It's tenacious stuff.
The nifty upcoming event, this weekend (Austin residents, take notice): Water Ballet! With live music!
