The Undiscovered Country

Why bother?

I've started many a blog entry lately, but every time I get down a few sentences or paragraphs, my motivation dies. It's partly due to fatigue. I think I'm entering perimenopause, because sleep has become more elusive than normal. That, and my attiude isn't what it should be. I'm emotionally blah.

I can't finish any entry, because a little voice says, "Why bother? No one cares; no one listens. They're too busy believing they are right and everyone who disagrees is some kind of -ism and full of hate."

Have you ever wished you would get a nasty cold, so you'd have an excuse to stay in bed instead of going to work? I've been wishing for about two weeks now. And yet, frustratingly, I remain healthy.

Except I did have a nasty stomach ache the other day. It's the third time I've had this particular pain in the last four months. It's only in the stomach, happens at night, lasts about 4-5 hours, and there's no nausea involved. I finally concluded I passed a gall stone each time, because the symptoms matched perfectly. I'm not worried about it, because (according to what I've read), as long as my waste looks normal and the pain doesn't last past 5 hours, there's no need for medical intervention.

With bad knees, (assumed) gall bladder problems, possible perimenopause, forgetfulness, graying hair, slowing metabolism and saggy skin, I've concluded that I am quickly reaching the end of my 50 year/500,000 mile warranty, and God's not giving me an extension.

Everything that breaks from now on is coming straight out of pocket.

I think it's time I quit trying to write a blog and preaching to the deaf, and instead pick up an unfinished novel or two. Maybe my doldrums is my brain's way of telling me I need to escape reality in favor of fantasy.

We do need that sometimes, because reality is too darned depressing.

Writing fiction is my adult way of playing, because I don't have to worry about breaking a hip.