I don’t have many nervous habits, I don’t think, but one thing that I do do when I get stressed or anxious is to pick at the skin on my lips. I’ve done it as long as I remember, and even though it hurts like hell I can’t seem to break the habit. I’ve reached the point now where I need to start carrying chapstick with me at all times.

Overall, I don’t feel terribly stressed–that is, I have no major stressors–but there are a lot of little things that make me feel like I have too much to do and too little time. I’m having a great time with NaNoWriMo, and I’m really pleased with the direction my book is taking, but I’ve fallen behind the past week and I’m having a hard time committing to catching up. Added to the writing stress is the looming Mosaic Minds deadline and at least three pieces that I need to write by early next week.

Also a stressor, obviously, is the pregnancy, with its curious quality of having been both planned and unexpected at the same time. I want a baby, I’m ready for a baby, but I’m not terribly keen on the moment at going through nearly a year of pregnancy. I expect I would feel much better about it if I were living in the States, but my previous (and only) pregnancy experience in Sweden was nothing to write home about (and the labor and delivery, despite being routine and uncomplicated from a medical perspective, were straight out of hell).

I know that if my mother is reading this it’s probably causing her no small amount of anxiety of her own, so I need to assure her that what I’m experiencing is not “that kind” of anxiety, but rather the more mundane kind. I’m doing fine and I don’t need any therapy or medical intervention or excessive worry done on my account.

I could, however, use a few more tubes of chapstick.