I’m so sick of feeling, but I know my work would suffer if I stopped being a babbling, neurotic mess.
I haven’t written much lately. I finished that one story that is going to be published in the ‘zine…. I re-read it and I hate it, but I hate just about everything right now so I’m a shit judge.
Maybe I’d be a better writer if I had a lobotomy.
Or a colonic (no seriously what is going on with my bowels).
Or maybe I should stop drinking so much caffeine. Or just stop concerning myself with thankless tasks (writing).
I don’t mean that. I get waves where I feel totally confident in my career choice, but then it dissolves into self doubt and malice.