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I'm sorry I can't talk right now

I slogged to the kitchen five minutes after clicking off my alarm. Anxiousness gnawed my gut like an over achieving woodpecker. My morning routine includes prayer while my coffee brews. I struggled to assign my growing unease a name. Mug in hand I peered out the front door to check for damage from last night's wind and rain. None. Thank goodness.

Woodpecker anxiousness built. I settled into my "quiet time" space and began to write out my morning prayer. The name popped into my notebook before I could stop it. Why stop it? The name belongs to a character in the manuscript I'm rewriting. Without creating a spoiler alert, this character faces serious consequences in the next chapter and I'm worried about the actions unfolding. Writing this action concerns me less than how the events will affect the family -- a fictional family I created.

Call the men in white coats. I've lost it.

Last week following a business meeting a couple of people noticed me plodding aimlessly toward my vehicle. I underestimated my zoned out appearance. When they asked what was wrong, I struggled to reply.

Today I left a luncheon as soon as the speaker concluded. I skipped all opportunities for networking. After noticing others I knew I faltered on how to approach them, what to say. So I left.

A month from now I'll attend my first massive writer's conference. I'm hustling to complete major revisions on my manuscript and to prepare for agent conferences I'll attend. As I near the end of my revisions my head spins with every detail waiting for execution. Pitch practice, a one sheet and another document I'm forgetting boggs my mind into sludge. To say I'm in my head right now is an understatement.

If I've ignored you in the last two or three weeks, I'm sorry. If I stare into space when I should listen, please nudge me. If I don't look like I'm completely present, I'm not. Rest assured these weeks represent but a season. I'm hopeful the investment in my writing pays off. If not, I'll regroup and reimagine how to reach my goals. And I'll reconnect with those of you I've missed in these weeks of intense prep. In the meantime, I covet your prayers for my work and my ability to stay present wherever I am.

You don't have to pray for my characters. I'm not there yet.

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