publication devastation

Things are getting exciting over here. I have four stories out to six publications. I might have another story out tonight but I'm still working on the title. I hate titles. You have no idea just how much I hate titles. I can write and write and write, but unless I somehow have the title in advance, it's almost guaranteed that it's going to give me grief. Let's take a little peek into my head, shall we?

The thoughts I think:
One day I'll be a real writer. No, I am a real writer. I'll just be a paid writer. A print publication paid writer. Is this story any good? A title. Oh! Another story idea! Must. Reformat. Play. Oh! Another story idea! I think there's ice cream in the freezer. I need a title. The kids. Where are the kids? Applying for jobs, applying for jobs--Oh! Another story idea!!!! What is that beeping? Is someone cooking something? Wait--right. I was making a sweet potato. I really need a title. Submit. Submit. Play--the play! I have to format this play! Okay, if I don't come up with a title, I'm going to lose my mind. Did I walk the dog? I NEED A TITLE!!!!!!
(Lather. Rinse. Repeat.)

Yeah. That's basically what goes on, I'm sorry to say. But you know as well as I do that if you were to think about your own thoughts, they'd be just as fireworked as those. Or maybe they wouldn't. You know, maybe it's me. Maybe--wait. The point of this post. Oh yes.
So, I have trouble coming up with titles. I can get the story out. I'm not too bad at that. It's the titles that kill me. I mean, titles are tons of pressure. It's like when you're in school and you see this hot guy/girl who you want to like you in the worst way. And you have this one chance to really wow him/her. And you realize that this very moment is THAT chance. So you take a sip of Coke and you inhale just a bit too deeply and the Coke goes down the wrong pipe and now you're choking and sputtering and Coke is coming out of your nose and your friends are just staring at you and the whole world has stopped for an incredibly long second and the person whom you were trying to impress just stares at you with that expression of puzzled amusement, and then goes back to whatever he/she was doing--except now he/she is cracking up and has no idea what an incredible person you are. THAT is what it is to have a bad title. That knowing that the editor will never see past that horrendous phrase that has now just ruined your chances of getting into Perfect Professionally Paid Print Publication.
It can devastate you.
Really.