Happy on Demand

Nothing makes me happier than a bunch of kittens. Photo by Ilse Orsel on Unsplash

If I thought I was busy back in the days before I retired, I’m actually busier now, ten years into my retirement.

Being retired meant less money, but it also meant I could pursue my dream of being a writer. I also work a lot harder at it than I did at any of the jobs I held over the years. At least, more hours in the day are devoted to writing. From the time I open my eyes with maybe half an hour or so to have some coffee and do some morning things, to when I absolutely must have a two-hour nap in the afternoon, to sometimes 10 pm at night.

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Being depressed about anything puts a big crowbar in the writing. I should know. I just spent two months being a non-productive writer. I won’t say I didn’t cry and sob over everything in my journal, because I did. I turned to watching more on television and dug out some books to read, spending more time with them than I usually do. But the zest for writing just wasn’t there.

So, inquisitive as I am, I began to do a study on myself.

I talked to my husband about it yesterday. When I got to the part about everything being so depressing, especially when I read the news, he reminded me that looking at the news was not the greatest idea. We’ve had this discussion before. I’m inclined to pay more attention to him. I wonder if I could…