I love how life can box your ears and make you reassess things you've just started worrying about and makes you realise you can stop worrying, because it's about people, and you can't control people. Terrible realisations over the weekend remain terrible realisations over the weekend, but at least I can live with the notion that perhaps the best state for a writer is one of frustration. Frustration makes you do things. Satisfaction, most of the time, does not.
That said, I should get incredible amounts of work done, the next few weeks, months, etc.
I could do with less of the hyperactiveness of it, though.
Or it might just all be caffeine deprivation.