To-Dos and Wild What-Ifs

Rolled from the bed’s sweet flannel embrace, took the dog out, dealt with moderation reports, downloaded a couple print proofs, ran off another print interior (dear gods, Vellum is amazing), got confirmation from the accountant (let’s all heave a huge sigh of relief), and the coffee is still warm. Not hot, but warm is good enough, considering.

Yesterday was blustery and sunny in turns, which meant my sinuses were throbbing like a disco beat, complete with the flashing colors whenever I blinked. Disorienting, even if I can find a bit of amusement in it. Today will be a bit calmer. We’re really noticing the difference with the cedars gone; the house rattles under the east wind like it never has before. I don’t know if the laurels will grow enough to become a buffer, or if I should plant something else along the new (hallelujah) fence.

That’s a problem for another day. I have all of summer to think about it.

The only drawback to all this productivity is that no task I’ve accomplished so far is on today’s to-do list. I should probably change that and cross off a few things just to get the dopamine flowing. Nothing quite like drawing a heavy line through an item one’s already done; I highly recommend putting at least one thing already accomplished on any to-do list just to get the pump primed.

Today will be all about approving proofs, waiting for one last bit of paperwork to sign, and revisions. I can finally get serious about the Sons of Ymre #2 revise, so that will occupy me for a few days and subscribers might get to see an updated bit of that book. Plus I’ve got prep for the Spring’s Arcana release, including lots of deep breathing and bracing for the virtual launch. I’m growing increasingly nervous, as usual, and the only cure for that is enough work that I’ don’t think about it’m too busy to brood. The wild What-Ifs murmuring in my ear (what if the book sucks, what if everyone hates it, what if no publisher ever wants you again, what if, what if, what if…) can be reduced a dull roar if I’m distracted with keeping other chainsaws in the air.

I woke up with Charlie Puth’s Attention playing inside my head again–just the point where the beat drops, over and over again. Which isn’t bad, but I would like a change. Fortunately walkies and a run today will be full of other music, so there’s a chance. I think my brain just uses any leftover RAM to run music, so clearly the fix (if one is even needed) lies in giving it other things to play with. Keeping it occupied, just like any other toddler.

The trees are dancing like they do in springtime. It’s different than the cold, sleepy lashing of winter; I can only think the rising sap makes them move differently. The butterfly bush is greening, and the Japanese maples have started budding out. No sign from the dogwoods yet, but there’s time. The magnolias are beginning to shed waxy petals, a different snowfall.

And now the coffee is cold, too. I just drained the dregs, which means it’s time for brekkie and walkies. Boxnoggin is stirring, though he hasn’t trotted down the hall to get me moving yet. He’s not the type of herder Bailey was, but eventually he’ll show up to nose me for the door.

I’d best get moving.