martinimade

I have a musician friend whose wife describes him as "a cat on screen door" shortly before he has a new album hit the stores. I now know what she means.

By all accounts, The Book is now finding its way to the hands of readers. This is good.

Because it is what I do, I am starting to get anxious and a wee bit obsessive about the whole thing. I don't like it when I have to release control to the universe. What if the universe simply shrugs? What if the unvierse notices? What if I acheive success beyond my wildest dreams? What if someone leaves a metaphoric bag of poo on my doorstep? What if no one cares and I never sell another thing again and have to find a normal job, one where I have to wear nylons?

The is another shoe out there and I am simply waiting for it to drop.

Rather than focus on the voices (O! the voices), I've decided to be, like, proactive and stuff. I'm sticking to my knitting, both literally and figuratively. And I'm going to drink heavily, eat boxes of Teddy Grahams and bags of Hershey's Miniatures. So if you see me wandering about 100 pounds heavier, smelling of gin and talking to yarn, don't panic. This is how I cope.

Speaking of public nervous breakdowns, I'm worried about Britney Spears. For a few years I had myself convinced that she was an idiot savant. Now I think she's just one big cry for help who needs pity rather than scorn. She also needs a good swift kick in the ass and people around her who care about her as a human being rather than a meal ticket. Or, you know, some yarn and some gin. Couldn't hurt.

Thanks for all of the comments. Keep the reports coming in, if you feel so inclined.