Under Pressure…

For anybody singing along at home, this would be to the tune of the not-that-popular Boyz II Men single from the early 90’s.  (Don’t judge, I warned you I was different)

The words continue to pile up and while I’m happy with ANY progress, I’m having a hard time not playing the comparison game.  Forget comparing myself to any of my CPs who could totally wipe the floor with me right now — and have the release dates to prove it —  but the comparison to myself at this time last year makes me wince.

I’m a better writer, just not producing as much.  Some would argue that quality is better than quantity, but I’m honest enough to say I’d probably throw a shoe at those people.  Or at the very least mock them.

There is no one waiting on me.  No call I’m dying to be a part of.  Nothing that would fall apart if I didn’t have XYZ finished by XX, but I constantly have to reign in my  zealousness.  And the urge to start even more First Drafts.  (Stupid finish 5 MS goal in 2010 won’t leave me alone).  I’ve always thrived under pressure — mostly self-imposed — but it leaves me in the position of being a Pessimistic Optimist.  Sometimes I hate my brain.




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