I finally had an idea I can live with in terms of scale and profitability, so I am rolling with it, although it is not compatible with Ina, and it is not compatible with my medium term objectives.
It is likely to mushroom, but that doesn’t matter at the moment. What matters is that I am distracted from the disaster that was the last job, and the sadness that nothing nice ever seems to happen.
I was so happy that I had finally done something spontaneous without overthinking it, and then it turns out Mr Ripley is not very nice and also married to someone who is also not very nice.
The mercy is that it seems to be impossible for people to hide it. My sister couldn’t hide it, the relevant exs couldn’t hide it. SB1 and 2 couldn’t hide it. The lack of introspection is incredible.
However, it has to be said that a decade of being in love with Wolfe was not reasonable either, although it was a lot safer. I am glad that he wasn’t waiting for me to grow out of the miseries, because he would have been waiting a long time.
For my sins, I now have sixty blog entries and as many short articles to write now, preferably before Wednesday or so, as things are likely to take another different direction then.
Believe it or not, I actually miss the spark of life from SB2. I seem to like complicated people, even if they are objectionable, which means it is probably better if I get a dog and stay away from them.
The new plans involve networking with an entirely different set of people, who are likely to find me considerably less of a mental stretch than the last couple of lots did.
If the niche works, however, it may negate the need to go back to work at all, so I had better get busy before the sewing mood strikes.
I would like to meet a grown up male that actually gives a shit about me please, if that could be arranged. Nothing too startling, just somebody to talk to that isn’t vile.
