Things to do:
Last minute shopping for me.
Soccer meeting for Squish.
Trip to the fair so kids can perform.
Find dance costumes and shoes so kids can perform.
Finish an incoming edit.
Walk the dogs, do the laundry, fold the laundry, decide what I’m wearing.
Find my good shoes.
I’m so going under.
The kids keep trying to talk to me and I’m a million miles away.
I was talking about my current project, and all of the things I wanted to write and how I wanted to market stuff and how I wanted to branch out and… and I started hyperventilating because consequences beget consequences and you have to deal with those consequences and even more consequences happen…
And Mate said, “Stop it. Just write the story. It’s like freaking out in case you win the lottery. Nobody wins the lottery and if you do win the lottery it usually ruins your life. Just work every day and play and enjoy yourself. It’ll happen–or it won’t. We’ll be fine.”
He’s a wise man, my Mate.
But he’s wrong. I already won the lottery. I married him.