I'm having a real issue with feeling unproductive and inundated by an infinite task list. This is white knuckle fuck-the-world anxiety; probably induced by drugs or a lack thereof.
Regardless, I managed to pack and ship a
good pile of eBay items, and then turn around to photograph and list
ten more items. For a day with a slow start, this is a good result. But -
I haven't found time to work on a single detail of my new house in a week.
to-do list is long, pals and scouts. The list is long and growing...
I should be happy. I have health and freedom and I've learned how to generate a reasonable income without the suffocation of a blue collar job.
I'm usually happy. As much as I deplore consumer culture, it makes a reliably buoyant elixir to float upon. At 31, I'm still finding my place.