One of the more bizarre side-effects of believing in the possibility of the collapse of civilisation

[hmpf]

I've stopped caring much about writing something that might survive me. And I've increased my efforts to actually finish more fanfic. Rationally, I know that it's unlikely that, even *if* we should see the collapse of civilisation - which hopefully is still far from a done deal! - it would happen in the next few years. Still, there's a strange sense of urgency to my life now, which, ridiculously, even affects something as inconsequential as fic.

I suppose it would be more useful if I focused all my energy on preventing catastrophe, but on the other hand, it's probably important to do some things just because you enjoy them. Living entirely for a cause is a good way to get burnt out quickly, right?

Unfortunately, btw, my new outlook on life has also robbed me of any desire I might have had to concentrate on achieving professional success. I never had much ambition in that area to begin with, and what little I had has now vaporised completely. I just can't make myself care. There are so many more important things - more important either because they affect the world in a more significant way (i.e.: activism, which I really do hope to start 'practising' this year, instead of just talking about), or because they are more immediately enjoyable (i.e.: writing fic, and other fannish activities; and art, jewellery making etc.)