Whoever said relationships are easy and a walk in the park needs to have his or her mind read and perhaps also head out for that walk again.
But on the other hand, married folks who have been together for unusually long decades simply shrug their shoulders and say it is never easy and polish this off with their own variation of the cliché that married life is tough.
This post is for those who are particularly anxious about life in general. Thanks to high anxiety, these folks also stress in the kitchen, never quite being able to make up their minds what to cook from one day to the next. Cooking and eating-wise, this post is for folks who suffer from chronically high levels of stress and those who have been diagnosed with clinical depression. And this post is for everyone else who generally and unnecessarily worry too much about everything in life.
Many guys and girls are still asking me how it all began. Even as a new writer some years ago, I was not one of those who selfishly guarded his best-kept writing secrets. But I still said very little at the time. This mainly had to do with my own lack of confidence and conscious thoughts about how others responded to my work. On a professional level, this is before I turned to blogging for my daily bread and butter, it did not matter much. I was briefed by my editor, responded productively in kind, turned my copy in on time, received no further editorial feedback from my editor and simply saw perchance my published words in print.
Did I mention this before? I’m an unconventional reviewer of movies. Why is this so? There are several reasons. Let me explain before perhaps suggesting that you also watch these movies whenever the mood strikes you to do so. You have to be in the mood, and this also depends on your own artistic or genre interests. You may not agree with my impressions nor would you be particularly interested in the shows that I have applauded over the course of the past few months. I don’t need to tell you that watching movies is also an emotional experience.
Nearly two weeks ago, my talented and most experienced brother sent me a cursory New Year’s greeting, a positive one wishing me the best prospects for the year ahead. Added to that was a terse reminder to mail my resume and letter to a company with which he spent a few years of his professional life. A week before this message, I had thoughtlessly informed him and other loved ones that I had, indeed, mailed the resume, but did not expect to hear any news for at least another week or so owing to the fact that said company had closed for the holidays and would re-open sometime in the New Year.