There was so much thought and not written, written, and not posted in April that I am a small bit disappointed. Disappointment is fairly easy to come by now that self-esteem has hit a new low, where I am annoyed with my own grumpy! So, I have, like I do, over-committed and decided to do multiple taxing projects this month. The most exciting one of those is to keep an online journal on Instagram. The most important one is to improve my self-esteem. The scariest one is to start stitching. The one that is the most overdue is to learn to drive a car. I want to start studying. In the mornings.
I also have a new long-term concern, now that FOMO feels fairly tamed. I love my house for all the hooks it has. I can get all the 875428 items from my cupboard out and it will still make a place to hang things. And such houses spoil you. You suddenly buy a study table. Have space to put a stool, even a floor lamp. But I have decided to teach myself to live out of a duffle bag. Even become friends with the Kindle. Maybe. Live in Goa, Italy, Utrecht. Couch surf.
But forgive me for the inertia, starting to learn something is so tiring. To teach yourself to not expect to be Salman Rushdie, Sania Mirza, or Dali right at the first word, first ball, first stroke. To keep at things after failures that are but a part of the start is fine, but to start, in spite of this fact, is hard.