Intrusive Thoughts

I am haunted by what mental health types would call “intrusive” thoughts about how much better we could be doing our jobs at Belt Publishing. I am not sure why I am now constantly pinged by sudden “fuck did we do that?” thoughts as I make dinner. I am not sure why I cannot stop thinking we need all better workflows while trying to binge Netflix. Part of me thinks this current (and not, I should clarify, truly abnormal or worrying) anxiety is an effect of our current “opening, kinda” stage of the pandemic; I am more in the world, mentally at least, and it seems to have changed for the worse. All I see are the hole. It could all be so much better.

Not the books we publish, in which I remain blissfully, perhaps cultishly in love. Those are all banging. In fact, I am pretty sure we are publishing the best nonfiction out there right now, and the wash of the future which will become history they will only rise higher.

Instead, I wake up ruminating about our porous media lists, those sprea…