I was trying to write a post about about acepting my own Mediocrity, about coming to the realisation that perhaps I am just not very good at the things I either think I am good at or want to be good at. Even as I wrote it I knew that these feelings usually blow over and I stop feeling like the most useless Parent/Artist/Writer/everything and I get back out there and attempt to be Very Good at something. So I wrote a loooong post just before setting off to be Away-without-laptop for a long weekend and the interwebmachine would not let me publish it. My self-indulgent whining is lost to the ether, luckily. My slightly superstitious side thinks that someone is watching over me and not letting me slump.
“Come on Dr. F, you can do it!”