I woke up this morning to a panic attack. My dream sent me into a total state of Oh Shit.

Apparently, in my dream, I was two weeks from my deadline and on page fifty of my book. (which, if I’d taken the time to wake up, I would’ve realized it was a dream because of the page number alone.) But I didn’t take the time to wake up. I had a stroke instead.

So, I got up at 5:30 (when my heart finally returned to its normal pace) made a pot of coffee (must get my heart rate back up with that caffeine injection, you know) and started writing.

I’ve written 5 pages so far. Thank God. I guess my subconscious was telling me that I’ve spent way too much time being the mom-taxi this week and not enough being the writer. Guess that’ll show me.

In other news, Fishdog finally posted a new blog. Pop in and tell him twfkam sent ya.