I must've dreamt about the London job all night because I woke up this morning at 7, and I could barely lift my head off the pillow. I had such a tension headache. My neck was in rigor mortis.
Two Motrin and two hours lying on a hot hot heating pad, it was gone, but I fear this is what I am up against.
If I can't get this job, it won't have anything to do with my editing or writing skills, it will be because I physically can't take the stress. Fudge.
2 comments:
Listen to you! Or is it just the thought of uprooting yourself and moving to another country?
I'm petrified at the thought of uprooting and moving! At the same time, I'm depressed at the thought of NOT uprooting and moving!
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