Seriously. I have a story due for a British magazine today. Most of the interviews are done; I have all the information I need. But rather than actually write it, this is what I did:
-Pitched stories to an online dating magazine (nothing yet)
-Pitched stories to another online magazine (sold one!)
-Cleaned a birdcage thoroughly
-Cleared out the sink
-Showered, including ablutions I usually skip
-Cooked myself lunch
-Paid bills
-Started this blog
The madness has to stop. I don't know why I do this to myself-- all it does is make me more frantic in the end. At this point, I wake up and look at the clock about every hour and a half during the night. Knowing I have a story hanging over my head. Knowing I don't want to do it. It's almost 3pm and at 5 I have to get food for the snake, plums for Boyfriend, and go to class. At least it hasn't got to the point where I'm folding laundry...
