I'm not panicking. Really.

On my desk sits:

One printed 368-page manuscript.

One 17-page detailed outline.

One 2-page outline summary.

One 2-page list of possible revisions.

Oh, I was so wonderfully organized when I wrapped up the first draft a little over six weeks ago.  So detailed.  So thorough.

All the good it did me.  I don't remember a frigging thing!  It's like I'm reading somebody else's work entirely.  How is it possible that so much of the story could have fallen out of my head in a mere six weeks?

Which I suppose is the point of stepping away from it and coming back to it later with fresh eyes.  The problem is, my eyes are too fresh.  And all I can see is one Big Fat Ugly First Draft.  The fact that it's organized does not help one bit.  No sir.  Not one bit.

Don't panic.  Don't panic.  Don't panic.