You know that feeling you get when you've eaten ice cream too fast? That pain in your head that kind of makes the rest of the world inconsequential until it's gone?
I've been feeling like that for the past few days. Only it hasn't been because of too much ice cream.
I must admit that my work is starting to get the better of me. I've got two edits on my plate this week. One of them I'm over halfway through, but it's taken me 7 weeks to get there - and I've only got 4 to finish it. The other is an edit that kind of snuck its way in, and was - kind of - due today. I started it this morning and hope to be done by Wednesday (thankfully, that's fairly doable with it, even though it's 80,000 words it's fairly well-written fiction). But then I'll have to get back to the other one...
I don't usually really worry about my deadlines at work. I just go along doing the work and it seems to get done on time. But the past week or so, I seem to be coming home and still thinking about the amount of work I need to do. And I can't exactly work on the big one at home, because it's so large (nearly 400,000 words, and over 10,000 edits so far) that I'm pretty sure it would corrupt in the emailing.
So I'm just plugging along and desperately trying not to think about it every time I turn around in the hopes of not freezing up my brain's capacity to do anything else.
Not really sure it's working, though, considering that it's nearly 10:30 on a Monday night and I've just blogged about it...
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