(and a Slight Mental Breakdown)

I sit cradling my morning mug of ginger-honey tea – had to stay off the coffee after a confusing night of twirling squirrels in a grape bath and Stubby partaking in a romantic opera. He was quite good, though.

(The squirrels disagreed.)

But honestly?
I’m a mess.

Doubt’s sitting heavy on my chest. The kind of doubt that pokes holes in your dreams and whispers nonsense like “What if it’s not good enough?”

Fear and self doubt feeds freely.
The first book goes live in a few days.
I am a bundle of nerves speaking with unrestrained excitement.

But, it’s one off the bucket list for me!
The joy and feeling of accomplishment, for finishing something that matters to me — it’s like finally breathing out after holding your breath for years.

The elation at my nugget’s morning laughs, and those sleepy nighttime kisses — it makes every word, every phrase, every sarcastic comment completely worth it.

The ginger burns.
The honey soothes.
And the world, as always, keeps driving me completely bonkers.

Here I am.
Wrapped in an absolutely necessary fluffy gown.
Fueled by unhinged plots and emotional tangents.
And somehow, against all odds…

I did the thing.

So what more could I possibly ask for?

Except maybe…
More twisted plots.
More ridiculous scenes.
More delicious delirium.
And a few spine-tingling surprises to throw in the mix.

Here’s to the doubt.
Here’s to the madness.
Here’s to the kickass joy of finishing something that once lived only in my head.

Here’s to a Sunday.
And to every single word that got me here.

– Moira

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