It's been a tough weekend. On Friday the newspaper I worked for for eighteen years folded suddenly without warning.
I hadn't been writing for them for six months. But it's still a blow.
And the credit card bills are getting out of hand.
Power. I breathe deep to deal with the anxiety of these problems. And I am grateful that I can breathe deep.
But still I feel powerless.
I'm not. I have a lot of power. I have the power to breathe deeply through every emotion. I have the power to run 4K without feeling exhausted. I have the power to throw dough and yeast together and have a meal.
I have six months of coding lessons under my belt. In a couple of weeks I'll have a certificate from Stanford.
I have the blood glucose from a good sleep.
I have enough accomplishments to get an agent to look at a proposal.
I have three months rent coming up.
But yes, as I write this, I can see how much the economic stress is taking a toll on my concentration.
