I loved my time in San Diego. It was a whirlwind trip to film some footage for a social impact website and we had such fun together.
It was alive and a blast to both act and direct again. I cherish time to perform.
Then my email was compromised this morning and I felt tremendous anxiety for two solid hours as we worked to resolve a major hack job. Thanks to my team, particularly Kristin Zaleuke Westberg, for taking care of our contacts while I was traveling.
That two hours of anxiety still hasn't left my body, and now I'm getting onto a four hour flight. I will need to work hard to settle down and let this toxic energy move through me.
I want to be home. I want to be calm.
I want to be with my wife and dogs.
And while I know I will be soon, I am dreading this flight. Worrying it will be four hours of mind torture in a flying tube. I realize that I might manifest exactly that and yet I'm having trouble just relaxing.
I can rarely sleep on flights, which is part of why I'm worrying. I feel like a bundle of raw nerves. Even autocorrect is irritating the hell out of me as I type.
Breathe Corey. Breathe.