And I call myself a blogger. Or did. I seem to have been appallingly lazy for the last couple of months and so far this year have only published 22 posts. In 2008 I published 184. "Those were the days, my friend[s]..."
It's strange how during the corona virus epidemic we set out to achieve so much during our enforced confinement, and how most of us have achieved very little, after all. There must be a psychological reason for this. After years of striving, are we taking the opportunity to relax from our good intentions? Or from other people's expectations, perhaps?
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