A lot of people have been asking me if I’m nervous about my writing conference next week (!!!). I’ve mostly said no, and that’s mostly true.
However, the closer the 20th comes, the more I find myself swaying toward the side of the fence where saying I’m not nervous is mostly a blatant lie. I’ve also managed to contract bronchitis and a sinus infection (also known as The Snot That Wouldn’t Stop), which has left me mostly dead all week.
I don’t have a friendly giant to haul me around, either. Pooh.
The closer the 20th ventures, the more I want to deny the fact that I am overwhelmed. And yet…I am totally overwhelmed. I’m sick, tired, full of snot, and let’s face it — the last thing I feel like doing is sequestering myself in our chilly spare room so that my constipated dinosaur of an iBook can stay connected to its life support and I can work on my revisions.
This conference is one of those Life Things — a Life Thing that is Really Quite Large and Imposing. It has the potential to nudge the trajectory of my path in a new direction. And I’m spouting snot.
It seems appropriate — if not ironic — that today I caught up on the newer lessons in the workshop I’m taking from Kristen Lamb, and she talked about her experiences blogging about being overwhelmed. I have an awful lot to do and less time to do it in.
I have several necessary and preparatory appointments for the conference this week: haircut, headshot photoshoot, doctor’s appointment, massage. (Yes, the latter is necessary.) None of that helps the whelming process here.
Today was Doctor Day. And you know what happened there? I coughed on a nurse’s face.
She was in the middle of swabbing my throat with a strep culture stick, and she tickled a tonsil and HACK — right at her. Face. Not only that, but my throat launched something phlegm-like in her direction, and judging by the horrified look of shock she wore immediately after, it made contact.
She proceeded to punish me by sticking what looked like a dental floss/Q-tip hybrid up both sides of my nose until I began to turn into the mucus monster. There may have been some accidental tearing as well. She left the room with the swabs, and when she came back, I was coughing and oozing out of various facial orifices. All in all, this was an unpleasant experience for my day off.
So I had that adventure, but I can tell you what didn’t get done: any little bit of work on my novel. The time is getting closer, and I’ve busied myself by coughing on nurses and oozing.
I’m sure many of you can relate to this predicament (even if you’ve yet to catapult phlegm at a nurse’s face) — the trepidation that arrives as an Important Life Thing approaches when the world seems to conspire against you (and the nurses, it seems).
What do you do to get yourself on track? How do you take your Whelm-O-Meter from “OVER!!!” to just plain, normal-y “whelmed?” Have you ever known something important needed to be done but obstacles kept piling up?
Please, O Sagacious Gentle Viewers, share with me thy wisdom, for I am poor and weary in spirit, and in my nose too much snot abounds.
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