Last night we had a surprise baby-sitter[1], which means it was date-night with my wife. We had a terrific dinner at Palermo’s in Ballard, did a little boring shopping, then walked around the neighborhood having an actual uninterrupted conversation.
It was nice, even if I was a little distracted. I’ll admit that I’m stressed about the release of Game of Cages and we talked about that quite a bit.
You know what? I am no damn fun at all. Other writers dance around and get giddy when their books come out. All that hard work finally coming to fruition, right? But all I do is fret.
I so very much need to get over this. I’d really like to be a person who was easy-going and optimistic, but damn, that just isn’t my response.
Comments are turned off because sympathetic or encouraging responses make me uncomfortable.
[1] How I define “surprise”: We scheduled the date with her and then got so wrapped up in our lives that we forgot she was coming over.
Mirrored from Twenty Palaces. You can comment here or there.
