Yikes!

Why, o why am I paralysed with anxiety here? My list was so concrete, so sure. It had hope written all over it. And now, here I sit, having changed 2 of the measures in my survey (despite the fact that I spent a long time picking the first ones out, and no doubt had good reason for my choices, except that I no longer remember the reasons because I picked them so damn long ago!!!). And I have no idea where I got the content for a couple of the sections of my survey, and I can't find some of my original references, and I have spent the last few hours fruitlessly searching through my files and bookmarks to see if I can retrace my steps. Ah, I see why I am feeling sick to my stomach with anxiety. It all makes sense now. But making sense and getting past it are not the same thing.

And, to top it all off, even though I am booking weeks in advance, the restaurant Mr. There Yet would like to celebrate his birthday at is fully booked, and now the plans will have to be more circuitous and complicated. I'm stealing someone else's expletive and saying 'Gah'!

O.k., new plan of action. (I notice how often I say 'o.k.' when I'm trying to make myself feel like life is more under control). I will make a quick phone call and then I will take all my notes from my interviews and go to a coffee shop and make notes on the notes and then come back and try again.

I will be back.