Circles Become Me and Virginia were nice enough to nominate me for the Honest Scrap award. Many thanks to both of you.
I think you're supposed to share ten honest things about yourself, but right now I have only one: I've been having these intermittent wellings up of panic, doubt, dread. They don't seem to really have an object or a focus. Instead, it's an unsteadiness that makes the physical world seem to tremble and go out of focus, like a craze of tiny lines in the glaze of a china plate.
It's like the time I was standing in a library, reaching for a book and the floor buckled under my feet, lurching like the deck of a ship. It was just an earthquake, a tiny one, but, just for a second, all I could understand was that something had gone terribly wrong with the world.
Does that ever happen to you? What do you do?