I wrote most of a story lately. It is almost finished except of course for the part where I like it. I have to tweak it a bit and figure out what essential piece will connect the story I wrote to the story that was in my head that I was so happy about.
What is interesting to me and I apologize to you wonderful readers because I have turned this into a Track-My-Anxiety blog, is that although I am no longer scared shitless by the world, I still have all this crazy adrenaline. I’m excited. I’m terribly excited to the point that when I sat down to write my story, I had to get some scratch paper and write out the four different possible ways of telling that story because I couldn’t just focus on one. This story is barely three pages and yet four versions of it exist in my head and I had to give them all equal time just to silence the doubt that the version I like is the best one.
But the thing is, I wrote it. I put it down and it’s not bad. Considering how much work I have to do at work, and the constant jitters I have right now, it is a fucking miracle it was done at all. Yes, I want a cookie for my efforts.
Where’s my cookie?