Someone else asked me today if they could read my journal (which forms the basis of the blog, which in turn is the foundations of a novel). They too observed that I’m far to clever to be in this situation. I admit again that it’s one which I partly placed myself in.
They also asked why I do this (write) and not channel my energy into something more financially rewarding. Writing is a therapy recommended by CRI and other recovery organisations. A more financially rewarding pursuit may present itself in the future, as may some form of financial recompence from the writing itself. the point is though, I enjoy writing: it’s my focus, my outlet; it keeps me busy.
And although I’m not earning anything from the writing (yet), I value satisfaction over financial reward. This aids my recovery in the interim period between now and becoming fit for work again or returning to run my business.
Put the £75k I used to earn in annual salary in front of me, along with the car which came with my Sales director job. Place alongside those a notepad and pen and see what I do:
I take the notepad and pen.
Bung them in the car with the £75k and fuck off.