Book launch day shoots towards me like an asteroid.
Almost-final drafts of essays surround me. Fear, sleeplessness, and worry consume me. I won’t get reviewed. I will get reviewed—but they will all hate me. I have nothing to wear to events. Okay, I do have stuff to wear, but nothing will fit, since I can’t stop eating.
Anyway, it doesn’t matter, since no one will come to my launch readings.
Okay. My husband will come. (That’s a law, right?)