Have you ever become such a workaholic that your life begins to fly by you, and you can't remember what day it is anymore? You can't remember who you are or what you wanted out of life?
Last night, I watched an interview with the goddess Stevie Nicks in which she talks about journaling, and how she's done it every night since she was 15. She talks about how life fades from memory, and how she's trying to capture it.
The older I get, the faster the days, weeks, months, memories go. It's kinda uncool. It makes me feel like I'm dying. Worse, it makes me feel like I've lost my voice.
So many projects, so little time, and this week, I'm on vacation, which means I'm scrambling like crazy trying to finish up all the little tasks left over from last year so I can move forward on June 1 with a clear plate.
The Deep Cuts Kickstarter is still consuming large portions of my time. I promised, as one of the rewards, that I'd edit folks' short fiction. It's been an awesome journey doing that, and the writers have been wonderful. I now have one more to go. I'll finish that one tomorrow, and then that's the last of the Kickstarter rewards I have to fulfill!! Yah, mon!
I've also been evaluating my goals for the coming year, something I usually do on my birthday, but was too busy to bother at the last one. I have a spreadsheet of all my projects, and I've rated them by income potential, joy, and time commitment. And from all those subjective figures, I've created a rather beautiful chart of what I should be working on. A couple simple truths came very clear as a result. First, I'm wasting too much time on a particular project that gives absolutely nothing in return. Second, I've been neglecting a project that has great potential to give me a lot in return.
So, priorities shifting. Can you hear the scraping and grinding of these old gears?
LJ, I may only be back for this fleeting moment and grasping at memories, but it's a start.
I'm still in here somewhere. I'm pretty sure.