Forehead, meet wall. Repeatedly.

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Huge shock and surprise coming up, ladies and gentleman.  The end of the month is quickly approaching, which means my self-imposed deadline is quickly approaching, and I am not ready.  Were you shocked?  All things considered, I should be ready.  I have my four pieces selected, revised once or twice, out to friends for comments, I even know where I am going to submit.  But I am still not ready.  I am, again, terrified and nervous (read: nauseous) about sending these suckers off.   Honest to goodness I thought that after the first go 'round I would be less apprehensive.  Apparently my reserve tank of ego is running a bit low. (Now that is shocking.)

I wish that I could post some of my stuff here for you all to read over and offer comments, but those damned literary publications I am submitting to consider pieces posted to this little old blog as "previously published works".  So basically, I would royally screw myself.  Alas, I shall prevail.  I will go all Scarlett O'Hara in a dress made of curtains on this mother, shake my fist and submit my pieces without fear (okay, with minimal fear).  

Oh, God...just need a few more days...

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