General Irateness

It seems as though several manatees of ill feeling are converging on me at once. My writing is all over the place -- I've started five pieces, each of which is unpublishable for its own special reason. My concentration is shot, and I've been flipping from one task to another, getting none of them done. I've bored two friends, if not to death, then at least to the point of making their escapes. I'm trying to build my little business back, but am confronted by job sites (one in particular) which requires statements of the utmost dust-licking abjection in order to bid for a job. ("Oh, I'll not only proofread your paper and ghostwrite it into legibility, but I'll be your friend and call you a lot and make you feel special. And I'll do it for almost no money! (Please note that I am a PhD from Harvard.)" It's as bad as the logrolling on eBay.

Still, no worries about self-pity here. I'll fight my way out of this crap. I'll get the friends back, get the work back, finish the writing and hope that one or the other piece will sell.