Blind. Panic. No Joke.

Man. Man, oh, man. I get home and suddenly I get this sprung on me.

Forty minutes left.

I have a lot of things to say about this. A lot of things I did say, and then deleted. A lot of things that I do not need to say, because other people have said them. And a lot of things that I will say in the future, once I have more information and the panic has left the bloodstream.

I am scared.

There are a lot of things I am scared of. Again, I won't name them: no point. They are all, at this juncture, ephemeral. Wait until a few of them solidify so I can deal with a handful of actual terrors, rather than the multitude of possibilities.

But I am scared. Terrified, even. That's worth saying.