Fear

Today, I awake in a familiar state: Fear-of-Tomorrow.
There's a James Brown symposium at the University of the East today that I was wildly excited about and all ready to go to, and then I looked at Tomorrow in my diary.
9 a.m. lecture to more than 100 students
10 a.m. to 12 seminar for twenty
1 p.m. to 3 p.m. 'nother seminar for twenty
5.30 p.m. to 7.30 p.m. Songwriting for indeterminate number of students.
Oh dear. Neither of my cats understand; they are still stamping about on my computer (my old cat pulled the letter 'G' out of my first laptop and reduced me to tears). The dog can't understand why I don't take him out for a walk in the rain.
'It's all about Tomorrow', I tell him, but he couldn't care less because he has a golf ball where his brain should be.
I have lazed about, but I'm unable to go back to sleep because of Fear-of-Tomorrow; I will plan, plan, plan:
what to say
what to wear
what to eat
when to eat
but until I remember the way I deal with it, it will all be useless.
How do I deal with it?
I deal with it by thinking, 'Tomorrow evening, it will not be tomorrow daytime any more. I will have done all the fearful things, and I will be tired and relieved, and all ready for....
Fear-of-Friday!