Monday, August 1, 2022

Crap, indeed

I should write something. I am putting on -at least- the sixth version, and before computertimes my room would be full of crumpled papers each with some texts, somewhere between  1 and 30 sentences... 

Yes, I van see that I've been here, with a certain hurray-optimism, about what a big blogging will be around here, just keep looking.

And then there was none.  

I became a taxevader with 450 thousand others in this country, and I fill my days with trying to get up, not despair (more than I am), not trying to hide from reality (more than as a reenactor and concert-going fan have my summer organized ahead), all the wwhile I am trying to work , and figure out what to do, how to do, but I just cannot. Also, smart and trusty accountants considering tiny small entrepeneurs as a client are welcome here. 

I've got trough COVID and the related mess, relatively unschated, at least workwise, though I had been terrified from th efeeling of "our lives will never be the same again", and I was right. Only I had no idea, how right I was. But at least I had work, insurance, tax-plan, and now I have none of those. 

So sorry, I will be back, but I need to feel sorry for myself, for a little while.


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