I haven't had a lot to say lately. Truly a series of disappointments has been laid at my feet this autumn (along with some lovely times, as well), and I am trying to adjust and see where to go from here.
All this striving and pushing seems to not get me anywhere. Part of me is like, well, duh! You are an INFP, they are smart and capable, but rarely really accomplish anything. The other part of me, is like, yeah, you are basing your life on a made up system which has been discounted by most serious academics in the field of personality.
I lost my Amazon affiliate status again, and the overall failure just made me feel like I need to stop trying to run a successful blog. The truth is whatever value people are looking for, they aren't finding it in my blog. Plus, I am disillusioned with Amazon. I know of at least two purchases that were made from shared book through the blog, and yet Amazon said there had been none. Suspect, I say.
When I closed my online shop there was little remorse. I feel a little sad about it this week. I think it is because I am breaking away from reading ALL the time-it is so hard with the boys and their constant need for care-particularly Alec. The shop was doing okay, I felt. Not what I wanted, but slowly building. It had been really taking off pre-Covid, but who cares about clothes when you are sitting at home all the time. But it isn't my passion. What is my passion. Does lying in bed reading books and daydreaming about romance and travel count as a passion? Or is it just escapism?
I am beginning to feel the box lid closing. Like there is all this opportunity and hope and romance in the world, and yet my expiration date has past, and I am being placed on the shelf to await patiently with all the other people who didn't make it. Just biding our time, until it IS time. Time for the box to be chucked out in the garbage bin of the Universe to make room for all other boxes of middle-aged people who didn't make it.
I am separated...sort of. When
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