packing up.

I’m tired. My day job is too exhausting and I’m too angry at a sketchy gamer I made the unfortunate mistake of befriending, trusting, and letting in really really far, only to realize 3 years in that he’s a scam artist and also see his fiancée may help him.

They say successful writers succeed because of 10% talent and 90% hard work. I probably have the 10% talent, but I have a lot of debt and bills I need to pay. I have a young child I need to put through college in 8 years. My job is exhausting–I come home and vegetate or fall asleep. Even when I’m off in the summer I’m so exhausted from the previous 10 months all I do is sleep and vegetate then too, just by the pool. It’s less tiring to read other people’s hard work than try to make my own.

So. I’m going to quietly pack up my writing dreams of 20+ years and just tuck them away in a deep box in the back of a closet. I’m too tired and jaded and angry and heartbroken.

The end.