Not going to Long Island

I figure I should put on a dress and behave like grown up every now and then. A professional grown up! With that in mind, I'd signed myself up to go to the Long Island Romance Writer's Luncheon, a rhaaather nice event. Been two or three times and it's always interesting.

But . . . Earlier this week the grunge hit us and I'm still recovering. And okay, there's panic/phobia/whatever involved.

I have to do penance, otherwise I'll worry that I'm slipping back into full-blown agoraphobia. [It's phobia! It's an excuse based on panic! Not real! Prove you're capable of doing it or you'll end up housebound with cats! Lots of cats!] To ward off the evil walls closing in, I'll drive to a RWA meeting about 30 minutes away. I'll probably wear a dress, too.

I almost always force myself to go despite the panic. Today I don't feel like indulging in too much self-pity and self-disgust. Turns out it's kind of a nice break to let the panic win now and then.

It's just part of the territory--and really, as far as crosses go, it could be a hell of a lot worse. Diabetes, celiac disease, fear of spiders (in this house, very bad news). Yup. We all have something screwy in our systems. Except there's a chunk of dough down the drain. Now I can pay bills and do laundry instead of listening to inspired speakers and maybe sell a manuscript or two. The worst part is I don't get to hang with my cadre. Yo yo, bad news, the L Team has to get their Dunkin on their own. And I can't go laugh with Irene or Kristi. Bah. . . .

Huh. Self-pity is creeping in despite my best efforts. Time to write an escapist bit of fiction.

Comments

  1. Anonymous10:08 PM

    God, wouldn't it be easy just to sit and write and never leave the house.

    I don't have to work too hard to make myself got to RWA meetings, but there are a lot of things I struggle with. I tell myself I've committed. It normally works.

    Rob

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