I am a published author...yeah for me, right? I am considered something of a wit,(or could be nitwit to some) not too shabby on the intelligence scale (the same used to rate chimps no doubt.) and above all else, I am a reformed optimist. I look forward to my daily outreach on the various social networking sites, like Napoleon must have looked forward to Waterloo! I have tons of inspiration, but little heart for the work!
And work it is! I can't believe rational men and women enjoy unloading their thoughts, desires, inspirations, onto a glowing screen each day of their lives. I can barely find the damn cursor (I just shorten that to curse) at 6:30 in the morning as I struggle to think of interesting happenings to share with total strangers. What if they just don't care? What if they find my musings, even my life events uninteresting? Guess I will trod on like the French General's beaten soldiers until I hear the bugle of "retreat". Of course, I'll be the one saying, "What's up with that?"