One niche that I find myself occupying often in these quiet economic times is article writer. You would think that’s a good thing, given that I’m addicted to the written word.
The problem is that the kind of article writing I get to do isn’t quite that kind of writing. What kind of writing is it? It’s writing of the ‘law for non-lawyers’ kind.
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I’m happy with life at the moment. Time is whizzing by, there’s always something enjoyable to do at work, even if its one or two tasks a day out of the ten that have to be accomplished. It’s work, so I’m not expecting euphoric personal satisfaction.
Overall though, life is good. Life is better than good. It’s somewhere in the neighbourhood of fantastic.
At the same time, I feel depressed because it can’t last. All good things come to an end, and so it is with this good thing. I feel someone is going to come and take it away from me. My happiness will be destroyed.
Part of my brain thinks that this state of mind is the purest insanity. One cannot be happy, cynical and sad all at the same time. But I am.