THE FIRST AND LAST PART OF THE WHINEY SERIES

How it Feels to Never Be Boosted

You don’t know how it feels to be me

Illustration from a 1922 article in the Bell Telephone magazine. I don’t necessarily toss any of my drafts. Instead, I save them for a rainy day. From Wikimedia Commons.

No one ever said it would be easy.

No one ever said I would deserve anything on here.

But I have tried.

Very, very hard.

I’m far from being a prolific writer here.

There have always been barriers to writing in place.

Now, I have a gig job that consumes Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays.

I am too tired after those ten-hour days to write.

Besides, when I get home, I have to make sure that my 92-year-old mom's needs are met first.

I have a daughter who feels ignored.

I have little time for my needs. Household chores come first. And getting a little booty now and then.

And for any other hobby I was once interested in.

In close to five years, I’ve written nearly 350 stories.

There have been long gaps based on despair and burnout.

But I’ve had some successes here and there.