Not that it's been a bad summer, per se. It's been an exciting but exhausting summer. I wrote a book. Then some shit happened and I rewrote a third of the book. Then I finished that project and almost immediately signed on to write another book. I now have two "not yet released" books listed on Amazon.com, which is exciting. And crazy. I'll make something like $25,000 in freelance this year, and I didn't even go looking for it.

Naturally, that has me all pumped up about potentially going out on my own, professionally, which has me all manic and anxious. I've been checking out books from the library on writing business plans and marketing myself. I designed business cards. I've been promoting myself a little (not too much, because I just don't have any time at all right now). But all of that has left me a frantic and tired girl. A. has been unbelievably patient with me, for the most part, though he believes I need a good shrink, that this compulsion for signing on to projects represents some kind of deep-seated feeling of inadequacy. I'm sure he's right. (Maybe it's not so deep-seated, though.)

But now I'm through the toughest parts, and though I still have lots of work to do, I'm feeling like I can breathe a little more deeply now. I'm just back from a somewhat stressful vacation to my hometown, and now I'm in that mode where I'm promising myself all sorts of things: that I'll take a yoga class once a week, that I'll start working out a lot, that I'll take long walks in the evenings and enjoy being in this beautiful life of mine ... and that I'll write in my diary.

It remains to be seen how long it will all last this time.