I wish I had the ability to write a post about feeling not-so-great without sounding like a whiny looser. But I don't. At least not yet. So here goes...
Today I had a problem at work with a co-worker who is type-A to the nth degree to my low-key slacker. I got so upset because it brought up questions I didn't have answers for. What am I doing?! What kind of writer am I?! What makes me happy, what fulfills me, what am I supposed to be doing?
I don't have answers to those questions. And fear makes me not want to answer them. Fear and laziness. I feel like those are two weights around my neck, and I'm fighting to run a race in spite of them.
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