Giving up on a deadline

For the first time since I started prioritising my writing in February 2008, I'm having to give up on a self-imposed deadline. The fact I'm not that upset about it seems to suggest that maybe I'm sicker than I feel [image error]

My plan, you may remember, was to have the draft of Hope Lost completed by the end of March so then I'd pick up Future Found and work on the reader comments in April. However, thanks to the absolutely strange things that my body is doing to me at the moment, it's not going to happen.

Honestly, strange is the only word. I mean, I don't FEEL sick, but I've been running a temp on and off for the past couple of days and did the same a couple of weeks ago. My energy levels haven't been good and some days have been absolutely woeful. Yesterday, I managed to clean out hubby's office in anticipation of the rental inspection on Thursday, but the job that basically only took 1 1/2 hours lasted all day cause of the long rest periods I had to take in-between. I wanted to go get something for lunch but decided I shouldn't drive – I just wasn't able to concentrate.

The day before, I managed to clean the bathroom, go to my father's to pilfer his books (he's moving and doesn't want to pack them all) and go to the roller derby – but if you asked me to actually do any thinking, impossible.

There's a part of my brain telling me if I just push through, I'll be fine. That I'm being a big sookie baby. There's another part of my brain screaming at my body to just bloody get sick already so I can get over it. In the meantime, I hover in this strange netherworld of knowing things aren't right although not that bad either but not being sure what the hell to do about it? Going to see Doctor on Wednesday, had blood tests done on Friday – will see what she says.

Am wondering if maybe, just maybe, this is actually all about depression – great, just what I friggin need.

So anyway, here I am – all relaxed about the fact I won't get this novel done by the end of the month. In fact, I don't particularly care if I don't work on it again in March. I'm grateful I don't have a publisher-imposed deadline – it's nice to have the freedom to be able to say 'nah, forget it'.

Even if the guilt is at times crushing.