On the other hand, this aura of impending apocalypse is triggering lightning storms in my creativity modules. Daily and nightly I am getting grand, epic bursts of inspiration at an output three times greater than normal and five or six times greater than when I actually have time to make things. Most of them aren't nearly as great when I look at them later (bridges? What the hell?) but a few of them--single sentence fragments--could spawn novels' worth of characters and themes and plots and worlds. Maybe there's something about anxiety that gets me going, I dunno. Maybe it has something to do with how I started writing as a reaction to the anxiety of growing up in a place where everything was wrong. I wonder if I could cure writer's block by pointing a loaded gun to my head with one hand and writing furiously with the other.
What's equally as frustrating is that I can't use any of these ideas for my creative writing classes. Few of them would fit in 750 words or less unless I went ultra-minimalist, and I am not yet skilled enough to write the ones that could.