This is the month where I can handle anything. I get giddy over the stress, and the freedom to not write well and the fact that zillions of other people are going through the exact same thing as me at the same time. It's like suddenly, the world understands.
I realized all this because I felt horrible twenty minutes ago, but 525 words in, I don't care anymore. About all the silly crap that's going on. It's. Not. Important. Now.
This is a beautiful, glorious thing.