Tue, 3 Oct

The only cure for grief is action, so they say. Grief might be taking it a little far, but I’ve been so seized up with anxiety for the past couple of months that everything in my life, from work to family to everything in between has been a real struggle. I’m struggling from a kind of over-deconstruction, I think. Not sure if this makes sense to anyone. But today I took action, and I lost myself in work for at least a little bit, and realized that if I hustle now, all is not at all lost. Another week might have been another story.

A man is coming to build a shed in my garden. I got my professional declutterer back to take another massive carload of rubbish out of my house, and I was left with a bunch of stuff from my recent ceiling repair (thanks to the tree next door), as well as paint from the previous renovation. So I bought a shed and then immediately developed tendinitis and couldn’t build it. So now I have a bunch of paint sitting around AND a huge flatpack shed. Kind of the opposite of decluttering.

I wrote, out loud in front of people, that I might try to write a book about publishing, and now I kind of feel like I have to do it or I’ll look flaky.