A Break from Work

I'm just stretching between efforts to edit my book.  It is going along.  I hope to complete my last read-through by end of day.  Thereafter, the main body of work will be in the hands of the editor, though I will be applying her work to the document as I receive her feedback.  Over the next nine days, I'm going to try to complete an index for the volume, though at the moment I am unhappy with the results.  I need to take some time and educate myself about this last task.

I can't imagine why anyone will care.  I'm writing this now as a sort of diary.  I want to look back at this post in a year or two and try to remember how I felt and what it was like to go through this process.  I have my doubts that I will ever write a book as difficult as this again, or in as little time (8 months!).  Who knows, however.  I am always pushing myself out of my comfort zone.

I find every time I speak to people lately - and that extends to writing this now - I want to apologize.  It's a stupid habit, I don't know where it is coming from (probably the stress), but it is there and it aggravates.  My level of stress has been steadily falling since a week today.  The passing of the fundraiser on Thursday was a big improvement.  I'm still working all day, however, meaning I still can't give myself wholly towards making my world.  I can't wait for that to change.

I've experienced the extreme drop that comes when all stress vanishes, so I've been waiting for that depression to hit.  I suspect it will after the 15th.  I hope it doesn't make itself known before then.  Steadily, as my checklist of things to do diminishes, I find myself awaking with less and less motivation to dig in and finish.  This, I know, can kill a project - but no one should worry about me.  This is not my first rodeo.  I know how to work even when I'm depressed.

Ah, D&D.  I'm glad it hasn't been tarnished throughout all this.  I haven't stared the beast in the face, seen it for what it is and thought, "Why am I playing this kid's game?"  No, rather, I miss my game.  I miss it very badly.  Actually hurts me a bit.  Those who might be concerned that, after all this, I won't be able to pick up the reins again, there is no reason to worry.  I'm an addict.  I'm suffering withdrawal, not lack of heart.

I know when I start playing again, finding the energy to handle a game is going to challenge me.  I'm going to have to go slow, like an astronaut returning to Earth and adapting to the gravity again.  I have plans to push myself these next six weeks, to kick my body out of this chair and get it in shape to stand on a concrete floor for several days in Toronto.  I feel very confident that putting my brain on hold so that I can hike or try kayaking again (though I sunburned my shins for the first time in my life) will be a blessing.

Well, that's all the news that's fit to print.  I should get back to the work now.