Head Full of Hornets

I was going to say "head full of bees," but I think it's more than that, more "hornety." Today, I have some breathing room, and I came to the desk so full of hope. However, it appears that I can't settle down. I keep jumping up and jumping around in my brain. I fiddled with some household mini-chores in the hopes I would work off whatever excess energy this is, but now, I pick up one book and read a bit and fail to be sucked in, so I pick up another one, only to have the same thing happen there. As frustrating as swatting hornets, which I know is never a good idea.

Tomorrow I plan on checking over the manuscript one more time and sending it out to one contest this month. There is one last poem that still feels like a thorn in my side. I will most likely excise it tomorrow. I also have a few newer poems that I want to check on. They may or may not fit in this project. I know some poets see their manuscripts with clear edges and boundaries, mine are so often blurred.

Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.