I walked all the way to the Inner Harbor and back after a marathon (several hours, for real) CD- ripping effort. Because I love Christian Bale, I watched "Batman Begins." Okay, for my money, a tortured man pushed to the brink by his pain is pretty much as sexy as it gets.

I submitted a rewrite "audition" for the freelance gig. As is always the case, we'll just see. Whatever happens at this point, I'll know that I really went for it. I can take not getting the job now, because I seriously tried.

I've been praying through some deep-seated fears of mine. I can't go into as many details as I'd like because it involves more than just my own life, but I can say this: My own personal anxieties are often difficult to separate from legitimate caution, and I'm worried that I'm projecting a lot of my own worries onto other people when giving them advice. I loathe it when that happens to me, so I'm making every effort not to undermine others' hopes and dreams in the name of "concern."

My youngest sister comes most readily to mind. Whenever she tells me about some new prospect or idea or whatever, my immediate [internal] reaction is, "that'll never work." And it's not that I'm wishing her a lack of success, but I get so scared whenever someone starts really wanting something, because I think fervent desire is dangerous; I think it ties one's hands. And I start bracing myself for the fallout that disappointment brings. I've realized that I feel responsible to fix others' disappointments, and when I become afraid for them, I'm just as afraid for myself--afraid I won't be able to deal this time...

It's not fair that because I can't deal with the prospect of being let down that I expect others to be perpetually let down. That's so toxic, and ultimately so selfish, but I don't know how to address this perverse paradigm.