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Being Grateful Might Be the One Thing that Pulls You Out of the Dark
Because wallowing isn’t the way.
By all accounts, I should be miserable.
My non-existent writing career has pulled the covers over its worn-weary head. The last book I published was in 2017 and was read by a sum total of five people. And the idea of finding a new agent makes me want to scream into soft pillows. Instead, I stare at a computer screen, placating myself with the bullshit mantra if you build it they will come (they won’t and never will come). On LinkedIn I watch my peers prattling on about their new career, their new house, their new pony, etc., while I wonder if I have to resell clothes for the rest of my life to pay basic bills. I haven’t filed my taxes because the last thing I need is an IRS customer service rep giving me a lecture about financial responsibility.
Love? Love is this superfine thing I hear people talking about but I’ve yet to experience it. My A1c is a war crime. Though I do find it comic and tragic that both my cat and I have diabetes.
I could be wallowing over the life that passed me by and all the rotten decisions I’ve made (can I hit the restart button effective 2009, inquiring minds would very much like to know) — but I’m not. Because wallowing is that dirty thief that will pull you deeper into…
