I have been over here hyperventilating about my Fulbright application. Though I started preparing several months ago, and am well on track to finishing before the deadline, my heart beats fast every time I think about it, put paper to pen, or fingers to keyboard, and work on my proposal (I will share some elements when I gather my thoughts).

My proposed project is in creative writing, of course, which is my forte, so why am I so shook? I guess it's just having applied to so many residencies this year and being rejected, having now had too much par for the course I think one more might break me. I wish I could so easily set an intention, submit my application, and release it to the universe with no expectations. It would be marvelously Zen of me. But I want it too much to be so casual about it.

I am not good with deadlines. So I quit my writers workshop (yes, the one I started not three weeks ago) because I realized there was no way to find ten extra hours a week to read my colleagues manuscripts and submit feedback while trying to find ten extra hours to work on this application. I am on the fence about the Akwa Ibom Convention this weekend because I should really be writing. And I'm giving myself an upset stomach.

There's a possibility that I'm blowing this whole thing out of proportion. There's also the possibility that I'm not. At any rate, I just hope to feel less sick over the next couple of months.

Writing mercies please! --AL.

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  1. In general, life can be funny! It's funny how things fall into place when you're not so attached to the outcome. It's funny how people want more of you when you're not emotionally available. But for some reason, I can't see the 'funniness' in those situations where you get so emotionally invested in a project or job search, for example, but come up short.


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