So I'm having Yolo Crow dreams every night now. Dreams where I'm running around frantically trying to promote the magazine, which, incidentally, is what I'm doing in my awake time anyway.
I'm starting to freak out everytime I go to my post office box and there's nothing in it. I know I'm over-reacting. We only went public with the submission forms a week ago. Even if people have already seen the flyers and been to the website and such, they're going to need time to pull their stuff together, decide what they want to submit, and edit it. I know this. It's not penetrating through my brain very well though.
I just worried that this thing is going to flop before I even get it off the ground.
My brain has been total mush lately. I had an appointment to meet with the editor of the campus literary magazine on Monday. I totally forgot about it. I have no excuse for myself. I sent an extremely apologetic email on Tuesday when I realized what I had done. So far no response. I feel like a total moron. It isn't like me to simply forget about something that important.
I have to figure out how to pull myself back into one piece. Is this me doing too much? Is this me depressed and grieving? Is this me invaded by brain-munching parasitic aliens from the Delta Quadrant?
Send me your votes.