Warning: the following post contains discussion about anxiety and drunkenness. Reader discretion is advised.
This time, it was not an illness. It was something just as bad, though. Ah yes, my old friend anxiety came into town a couple of weeks ago. You see, it came while I was hungover from sangria and buzzed from two cups of coffee and a baby bottle of Coca-Cola. Next thing I know, I wasn't sleeping well and barely functioning at work. Atop that, I had to prepare for my best friend's bridal shower. So much to do and yet anxiety wanted so badly to derail all my plans (including drafting out plans for my Camp NaNoWriMo novel). It succeeded. I could only go to work and survive the shift before returning home to sleep. Several days would pass before anxiety packed its bags and left town. I don't know when it'll return, but lemme just say that I'll never drink a full bottle of sangria in one night ever again, then chase it the next morning with coffee and Coca-Cola.
This is why I haven't written in a while or why there was no post about Camp NaNoWriMo.
~
And now I drink coffee (albeit instant). Does that make me a real writer now?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
0 musing(s):
Post a Comment