What the F@#&?!

I didn’t think I’d have Sunday Night Anxiety tonight. I really didn’t. Why not? Well, I have nothing to be anxious about. I mean absolutely nothing. I am at the top of my game on every level. I worked nearly 60 hours this week on BnM, finishing stories I’ve been staring in the face so long I was terrified by them, swallowing my most frightening frogs. Plus I house cleaned and kept the dishes done up every day and did laundry like always and got the groceries and cooked vegetarian meals and ate breakfast and drank water and read books and magazines and watched tv and dvds and wrote creatively and attended a writer’s meeting and read submissions for another new magazine I’m involved with and walked and figured my finances out and did yoga and exercised with weights and spoke with family on the phone and slept in late and read poetry aloud and blogged every day and read all 51 blogs on my blogroll everyday and cleaned out my inbox and scrubbed the furnace grates to open them for the season . . . and wasn’t tired, and didn’t feel like I had no time for anybody or anything. I AM AT THE TOP OF MY GAME. Most weeks I do good to get out of bed every morning. I’ve never been so at the top of my game.

So yeah, in the past, as I struggled to just keep moving somewhere near the very bottom rung of my game ladder, I expected a little sleeplessness come a Sunday night, a little anxiety at the coming week. So what’s up with this?! Why am I here? At the computer again after spending nearly 3 hours in bed rolling around trying to get to sleep.

This makes no sense to me.

Mood: hyper
Drinking: water
Listening To: jazz piano
Hair: greasy

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