Stressing is Dumb

[float_on_alright]

 

I got not one thing written last night which is very unfortunate and then I didn’t get anything written at lunch either. I desperately wanted to see how the book I was listening to turned out, which is ridiculous because a) it was going to have a happy ending, b) I have a book a need to read for Book Club on Thursday, c) I can listen to it on the way home, and d) I should’ve been writing.

 

On top of being stupid behind writing goal wise, I know that I’m not about to have much time to catch up. I’m headed out of town for the weekend on Friday evening, I have a book club meeting Thursday night, I’m checking in on my friend’s cat a few days this week, I have a follow up appointment with the Nurse Practioner at the gym on Wednesday and tomorrow night after work I’m now supposed to be catching up with a friend… or it might be a date? Or a hookup? God, I don’t know, but fuck if I’m not really fucking interested. I also need to do laundry. And, in theory, spend a little time with the folks and still get my workouts in. And in theory, I should get sleep at some point.

 

Reading so needs to be the last thing I do at any point in time aside from when I’m listening to a book in the car or working out. Maybe also while I hang laundry up to dry. That might be acceptable, maybe.

 

I have such a huge couple of projects to do at work too and I’m so fucking stressed about them. I know I don’t work every minute of every day, but I’m feeling so stretched thin right now and I have this big pre-performance review essay to write and I’m terrified because I don’t know what I’m doing or what to say I contributed. I’ll figure it out, I know I will, but for the moment I’m stressed as shit.