I’m sick of being sick. I think subconsciously, my time to quit the corporate life has arrived. Well, that was the plan anyway – work for a few years, save some money, and do whatever else that I wanted to do. However, for unforeseen reasons, like it always happens, I don’t think my peach of a plan has actually worked out. For one, I’m spending more on living a life that involves spending money on comfort and medical bills. For another, the entire leave corporate world and go off to build a house and grow vegetables in the backyard is almost laughable to anyone who is willing to listen.

SinceĀ lamenting this world cannot help, I guess I’ve got to come up with Plan B. What I don’t understand is how Joyce kept writing while he was going blind in one eye. I’m a woman touring the expanses of this universe on a limp, and honestly I’m tired. So, what should I do now? What’s my Plan B supposed to be? Of course, it’ll be put in action once I’m whole again, physically I mean. For now, it’s just me on my own getting through this shitty week. (Yeah I’ve decided it’s shitty already. Nothing about blood tests, doctor visits and scans seems inviting to me.)

I just hope this gets over soon. And to the satisfactory expectations of the critic in me.

Part 3 of Let There be Space

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