Creating a life worth living is hard. I move forward, writing, beading, gardening, living. Then suddenly, I’m stuck, can’t seem to find a reason to move. Self motivation is a problem. I sit, think, weep. I want to understand what deflates my desire to move. Maybe it’s the date - Saturday, May 14, 2011 - two years and two months since Glen died. Now I write, write, write...
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