Candybear, my dear, I am right here with you, in that same space. No goals, drifting.

Whatever has become my mantra.

Every once in a while, I think of something I might like to do. I may even feel energized -- briefly.

And then life sets me on my keester again. You know, I met this writer who gave me a good paying assignment. The deal was that we would proofread each other's work. I finished a bunch first, and he started making rather picky changes. I argued against one that was absurd, and he stopped most of the picky stuff.

I am not a great proofreader, so I kept sending them, and he is precise. Even though I've caught him in some punctuation and grammar errors, but then I just don't make the changes. I submit my work directly to the publisher.

The deadline arrived. So I emailed him and asked if was sending his work directly to the publisher. He emailed back yes. So he made this change in a very sneaky way -- I edit you but you don't even get to see what I submit. And I don't tell you when I've changed the plan.

What can I say? It's his job. But I have a Ph.D. He has mentioned looking forward to partnering with me in the future. I don't feel as if this is a partnership. I feel disrespected. So whatever hopes I had that maybe this would be okay -- back on my keester again.

I wish I did have goals. It would give structure and meaning to my life.

So sorry that you are in this place. We are good and competent people. (((((((((((((((((((((((((Candybear)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))