All I have to do to get stressed is look at the calendar. I've got three "big" (for me) events coming up this month that are sure to disrupt my already disrupted writing schedule. I don't get a lot of writing done when my life is disrupted.
The first biggie is the Churchmouse Holiday Bazaar. (Why are all these craft shows called bazaars?) I do three craft shows a year and this is my favorite. I have an nice location and as it's relatively early in the holiday craft show circuit, people are happy and in a buying mood. (That changes as you get to the last one, two weeks before Christmas, where the people have been to several craft shows and are bored by the whole thing and just want to eat pizza and baked goods while they wander around not buying anything.)
I take "goodie bags" filled with bookmarks, postcards and recipe cards from other authors. I'm in the process of assembling all that. It'll take me 2-3 hours to get them ready, but I'm still waiting for a few more authors to send me stuff. (So that's on the schedule for next week.)
Two days after the craft show, I have my dental implant surgery. I've been assured that this is nothing to get upset about. It's not as bad as the last one (the extractions and bone graft) and since they gave me enough novocaine to numb an elephant, I had no complaints about pain. Still, just thinking about it is giving me the heebie jeebies. Call it a procedure if you want to, to me it's still SURGERY.
Last . . . Thanksgiving. First of all, it's three days after the surgery and my mouth will have fresh stitches. It's hard enough to eat with two teeth missing; adding stitches to the mix makes it worse.
I'll have a house guest for three days.
I don't know who is hosting Thanksgiving this year. It might be me. More work. And did I mention a house guest, too?
I figure I've got a week of good writing days before the anxiety becomes too great and I fall apart. But everything that needs to get done is on my mind. Plus the book. Oh yeah, and I have a galley proof to hand in by the 29th, too.
Do holidays put your knickers in a twist, too?