I'm getting cold feet on this book thing.

I read back through these snippets I have here, and I don't know. I mean, I find it hard to imagine anyone but me and maybe a Gramma or two would care. Or, instead of caring, maybe they're hurt.

If I stuck with fiction, it wouldn't be so bad. They would have to figure out which part of it was supposed to be "them" before they freaked out. With anecdotes, it's one step easier.

I know there's a balance here. I will have to find it.

... but I can't understand it for you.

Read that somewhere, and I've been pondering it. Talk about a way of reframing life.

My Gramma used to say something similar. "Don't take aspirin for other people's headaches," was one of her favorites. An online acquaintance posted, "I just realized my parents spent most of their time trying to make better kids. I spend my time trying to be a better parent."

It's a common wisdom, but it's hard to keep a hold of on days when you are running around Mach 5 with your hair on fire.