As I told my dad, I kicked my own ass for five minutes on Wednesday, then proceeded to start getting my shit together. DON’T PANIC being the cheerfully printed bold letters on the back of the Guide, I knew I couldn’t let misfortune slow me down.
And then, something altogether magical happened.
After realising that I didn’t have to panic about my loan payments, and looking forward to a trip to the Surplus Outlet tomorrow to stock up on seriously discounted (and only slightly expired) food, I stopped worrying.
I don’t mean I am now completely worry-free. I am never 100% without care, but I’m back to my regular angst levels, and perhaps a bit below the usual levels. I realised that I don’t have anywhere in particular to be right now. I realised that I did more writing in the last three days than I have in the previous three weeks.
Other than the lack of steady income, this is what my life was meant to be. I’m going to enjoy it for the time being, and crank out that YA novel that’s bursting at the seams.