A few days ago, I enscribed a post about how my life had been going lately. We've suffered losses and have had more than (I feel) our share of travails.
The funny thing about it all is that for me it's very paradoxical. I'm addicted to blogging, which is an outgrowth of my (sadly neglected ... because of the blogging mostly) diary keeping. It's an on-and-off habit that I've had since high-school. Honestly, I love writing, sometimes just for its own sake ... I love drawing the letters, I love stringing sentences together.
The funny thing, and the paradox, lies in the fact that I'm actually quite quiet and private. Why do I put up such things on a blog that anyone can read? Damned if I know. I know it's fun. I know it keeps me writing. I know I like trying on identities and attitudes and moods and themes and seeing how they play out.
But I'm going off course, again.
The main point is, I got a handful of very sincere wishes and thoughts on that post, and they really touched me and cheered me up. They came from Stan, Dale, Pril, and Kevin Allman. I am ineffably touched and encouraged by these responses, and they've cheered me a great deal (Kevin: what you said about the job market having nothing do to with my talent was magic).
Thank you, you four, for chiming in with encouragement. The scene is still shambolic; the job offer bucket still dry, and it's still day for day for us around here. We've bought some time in some areas. The car is still utterly disabled in the driveway.
But I've got a little bit off courage back, and I'm facing what I can.
If anyone knows of anyone needing a hungry Junior Graphic Designer ... I'm still open and can jump on it immediately. Just sayin'.
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