Oh. You mean NOW NOW???

I crack myself up. And by crack myself up, I mean I drive myself stupid, set my hair on fire, and wonder why I smell something burning. 

I am selling and signing books at Flirty in Kansas City in February. Cool beans. I had it in my wee head the date was near the 27th or 28th. Obviously, the calendar and I are not well-acquainted, as the event is on a Saturday. *ahem*

I look up the date yesterday to write in my shiny 2025 Day Planner. (My love affair with day planners is another post entirely.) I'm looking at the graphic in the FB group and squinting. Enlarge it. Blink. Because no way in fuck does that read February 8th. Frantically Google. Oh, no. That's correct.

Sharp pains literally shoot behind both eyes. I wonder if I'm having a stroke. My tongue is fine. I say my birthday. No. I'm simply an idiot who forgets we track things by numbers, and when the sun goes down and comes back up, that's another number. I look at the date on the computer. Oh. Look at that. January 7th. 

I. Panic. I am overwhelmed.

The amount of things I have to do roll back in forth through my brain like a scene from a cartoon. Hotels, books, swag, and preparation.

My headache goes full-blown, and I start talking to myself to gather and calm. 

First. Hotel. I find the venue, don't want to pay the price for that hotel, and begin the process of finding a nearby hotel that is okay. I've booked one hotel in my life. This is my second. Onwards and upwards.

Books. Ah, blow me. This is a big venue. How many do I take? What if I don't take enough? What if I take too many? I can overthink the shit out of this. I order books. Send the receipt to the Honey and wince. 

Son of a cow! Swag. Almost out. Once again, big venue. Shit shit shit. 500 pcs? Too much? Not enough? I have two more events this year. Brain is starting to melt down. Buy the stickers! Order the bags! The Honey can only divorce me once! Send another Amazon receipt. 

Oh, and fuckity fuck. I'm nearly out of business cards. Are you shitting me? NOW? NOW??? *tries deep breathing* *almost hyperventilates*

Quietly brings up VistaPrint. Designs business card. Saves design. Waits until today to order. I'm fooling no one. Sends receipt to Honey. 

Going to ask Middle Child to come help put together swag. 

I'd love a PA, but I don't think I could do that to someone. 😂

Like...I need one. Obviously. 🙄 But I am a lot. And I mostly enjoy my chaos. I'm like a transistor radio. I sound like static to a lot of people. I can be hard to understand because of the way I talk or convey myself. But once you tune in to my channel, you realize all the quirks and oddness are part of the package. 

Always writing*

...yes, I'm BACK to it! 🥳

Phoenix, the creature of myth and legend...

 ...rising from its own ashes and bursting from the soot to soar triumphantly to the heavens again. 

😕

Me:

Burnt and ashy as hell. Choking on cinder and ember.

But I am HERE! Cue "Rocky" music. The trumpet one. THEN the "Eye of the Tiger." 😌

I took the rest of December to try and reset and balance. Did I? Honestly? As much as I could. I attempt to manage my mental and physical health. It's the best I can do. I can understand why I have some of the mental issues I do. But I still hold a large grudge against anxiety because, as I told my therapist, it's like my brain playing chicken with itself, and it surely pisses me off. Physically? Fibro can get fucked. No detours.

Now then.

The writing. One of the loves of my soul. I need it as I do breathing. I didn't write resolutions, as I haven't for years, but I write goals. And the seven I posted in the Sanctuary refer to my writing. Lofty? Sweet Jesus. You could say. But you have to dream big. Never been a problem for me. Now to try and convince my body and mind to place nice.

I tend to feel better when I write because it activates the happy part of my brain. That little corner is dusty as hell right now. Cobwebs. Dark things with bad attitudes. I'll need to open windows and sweep floors and keep it up a bit better.

I want to finish four titles in 2025: Canary: Out of the Shadows, Dream Walker, Incantation, and a Contemporary Romance. Finished in this order except the last two might be interchangeable. 

I'll try to be more present as I have a tendency to disappear when my mind and body go haywire. And just to end this on a good note...my furry son, Simba. I love this little asshole more than I can say. Thirteen years-old and such a heathen. 💖😌

Happy New Year

Crystal*