I’m in a strange writing place right now…I think my query is to the point it doesn’t totally stink anymore. I put it up for peer review this weekend expecting it to get mauled…and it only got a few scratches. Yay! I think it’s as good as it’s going to get, so I can obsess about something else now. (I feel empty without something occupying the “obsession” part of my brain).
I just have to decide which “in” thing to fixate on. We’re going on a vacation next weekend, so I can obsess about packing (getting a family of four packed for a week-long trip without exceeding the luggage weight limit is a task). No. This isn’t it…I’d rather procrastinate and freak out on Friday night when I can’t get everything pulled together.
Oh! I’ve got someone house-sitting for me, so I can obsess about cleaning the house so they aren’t horrified at the amount of animal fur that’s lurking in here. Uh-uh. That’s not obsession worthy. I’ll have to put that on the procrastinate list to.
Well, I’ve got the second book I’m working on (I’m on Chapter 4 right now) and I’m already 30 pages behind my goal. It could work, but I’m not far enough along to put that kind of pressure on myself.
I’ve got it! Earlier tonight, I started looking for my stamps so I could get a couple of things ready to mail. I don’t mail stuff very often, but I know I had some in my desk drawer a couple weeks ago. I questioned the usual suspects (my children) but of course, they weren’t talking. I threatened torture (no cartoons tomorrow), but each one blamed it on the other, so I’m back at square one.
The contents of my desk drawer are emptied on top of my desk so I can search for the stamps that seemed to have vanished. I know it would be easier to just go to the post office and buy more (there’s one less than a mile from my work) but instead, my mind won’t let this go. When there’s a mystery, I have to solve it. Too bad it’s not an interesting mystery (no one has died…yet) or I could use it for a novel idea.
A reasonable person would obsess over something that matters (like packing for a trip or cleaning the house for guests), but I’m not a normal person (as anyone who reads my posts with any regularity has figured out). I pick out obscure little details that eat away at me until I drive myself to the line between mildly crazy and stark raving mad. I will try to put on the brakes before I cross that line.