I am currently feeling crazed with work. It�s not an entirely unpleasant feeling, but I wish I were a little less panicky about it. I�m currently trying to finish a chapter by Thanksgiving that is on the whole going well, but is not falling into place quite as smoothly as I had hoped. Part of this is due to my own paranoia about the lack of communication with my advisor, as this chapter represents a pretty serious departure from my original proposal. I think it�s the right thing to do, and it�s a decision made based on information I did not have when the proposal was originally written. But I would feel better if I had an official go-ahead. Okay, I�ll stop complaining about that whole situation now.

I also just got the mid-year grant report form for my fellowship. It�s due in three weeks and it�s ten pages long and is likely going to take more time than I would like to give it. Still, it�s a well written form and shouldn�t be too hideous, as these things go. And given the amount of money they�re sending me so I can just work, the least I can do is give it the time it deserves, These forms stressed me out even when I was a professional grant-writer and the funds weren�t directly tied to my personal livelihood. Now I have to fight the feeling that it will all go away if I screw something up. It�s just that the whole thing seems too good to be true. It�s too easy. You fill out an application telling someone what you�re doing and they send you a check for thousands of dollars asking next to nothing in return. I know I worry about the accuracy of financial reports more than I should, certainly more than the people asking me to fill out the forms � they just want to make sure I�m not squandering it and that they�ve set their grant level accurately. But I always feel like if you�re going to do it, you might as well do it right. Plus you never know when someone might actually be paying attention. I�m such a geek.

Then there�s the small matter of Thanksgiving itself. . It�s always exciting to cook Thanksgiving dinner when you�re the only vegetarian in the crowd. Plus, I SO love shoving my hand up a dead bird�s ass. Just pass the sweet potatoes, please. Tofurky anyone? (And while we�re on the subject, how come it�s not spelled tofurkey?) Things are mostly in order for dinner, but the juggling act required always keeps me vibrating on the line between energized control and the plunge into chaos.

But it�s the energy, the juggling, the vibration itself that makes me feel good about things. It�s one of the things I miss about having a job. When you�re left to float on your own, it�s hard to feel that sense of urgency most of the time. Almost all of my deadlines are self-imposed, and I�m just not as scary an enforcer as my psychotic ex-boss.

On an unrelated note, some unseen force is causing the randomizer on iTunes to play all my favorite songs first today. It must be a good karma day.

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