I'm still unsure how I managed to injure my right thumb in that delightful show of clumsiness.
Hey, at least, I didn't fall on Princess Bella. The poor thing was merely trying to hurry to get her final constitutional done for the night because even she was cold wearing a t-shirt and her winter coat. (She's a toy breed, and you have to bundle them up because they cannot control their core temps the way a larger dog can.)
There's been a lot more happening in between the emotional and physical aches, but I won't bore you with those details. What it comes down to is I am behind.
So woefully behind.
And what happens? I get invitations from two different editors asking me to submit short stories for their holiday anthologies. For 2025! By the end of the month!
*sigh*
Folks, I literally just finished sending last year's Christmas presents to people!
So, what does it all mean?
It means I'm busting my ass trying to get the books y'all are expecting. I merely took the dates off the Release Schedule because looking at the page was triggering my anxiety.
Today, I skipped yoga, I made sure I had plenty of coffee and tea, and I will be back on the keyboard as soon as I get home from the COVID booster stab.
That's assuming I don't bash my brains on the asphalt in the pharmacy parking lot.