When some people get a day off from work, they do things like mow the grass, do house repairs, or get out to the lake with their boat. They go fishing, fly kites, and walk their dogs. Activities with family and friends, even in this era of social distancing take their attention. But not me.
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All my life, for no good reason at all, I’ve striven to “show them.” I wish I could tell you who they are. In my immature emotional sensitivity—a trait which I still possess—I’ve always sought to blame someone for my problems. There must be a source of doubt, derision, and discouragement.
Leave a CommentWorking 60-hour weeks stuns a guy into a kind of trance. Since no time exists for self-reflection, everything becomes about work. Even dreams.
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Thanks, Mark, for setting me up. I really appreciate the favor, as I’m hamstrung in promoting my book due to my new job. I’ll be sure to put the new bioStories Volume 9, Issue One on my social media and website. I’m happy and proud that my story, “Senior-Citizen Discount,”…
One CommentI dream about the spring pool sometimes. The water is so clear, the pool looks to be only a few feet deep. But in the middle, the bottom lies eight feet under the surface. Coming across it, some might think this is just a deep arm of Little Paddy Creek. But the azure water down deep at the cleft of the wall indicates where the water comes out of the ground.
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