The Anxiety is Real

The Anxiety is Real

I've been procrastinating on a lot of things. Today, I had some real good excuses. In-person time with MeMum, who did need me for an extended Leyland's tour of errands. And tech support. And a good gasbag, because who doesn't need a good gasbag?

I have so many other side projects and pushing myself on those leads to that good old burnout feeling.

I'm making small progress all the same.

Plus I have the pitchfest going on. Waiting for the hammer to fall, so to speak. Either launch or ghosting. Waiting for weeks at a time for a yae or a nae. Only to do it again. And again. And again.

Beloved is in pain and fragile and recuperating and will probably not be available for snuggles for some time.

...and I kind of need hugs.

I can keep it together for a handful of weeks. I can cope. I can deal.

I don't like it, but I can do it.

Helping MeMum out was good for the social stuff. Good for a little comfort and succour. But also kind of good for a decent amount of frustration because MeMum versus tech is... well... interesting times.

At least she knows how to handle Google Docs and Google Drive now. Theoretically. And I sorted out the issue with the new television. It was a dodgy remote feedback thing. You have to be careful with the buttons.

We might be getting MeMum a better remote at a later date. One with a better response ratio.

Anyway, I don't have a lot of hours to spare for everything I've got going, today. Tomorrow, I'll be better at it.

Tonight? I'm having a good sleep after I watch something low-investment on the TV. I know I need to just relax.

Maybe next week, I'll write that piece about what Enshittification used to be before some genius invented the word enshittification.