Life On A B-I7

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Stress Test

Journal Entry (Thursday December 22, 2022)



I did one of those treadmill stress echo tests this morning. It kindof knocked the crap out of me. I came home and slept for two hours. It doesn’t hurt that the cat was on the bed with me. I sleep better when he’s there, almost as well as when my sweetheart is there. I read recently that you need to write every day and have a blog in order to “be a writer.” Obviously that’s not all there is to it. I believe you actually have to be able to say something from time-to-time. That’s the hard part really. Take this blog post for example, is this good writing? Very little of me thinks that it is, but a small part of me wants to think that it is. I suppose a small part of me is allowed to be right, even if it’s not… I could be writing about important matters. For example, I have a relative that thinks the 2020 election was fraudulently stolen and the wrong man is sitting in the White House. Now there is something truly serious and important to write about, but all I’m doing is chatting about my own personal interests and aspirations. The only reason I can give you for that is I like to focus my energy where it has a chance of doing some good (in this case, on myself) not where I’m pretty sure it is going to be ignored.