I didn’t sign up for the freelance blogging course I mentioned in my previous post after all. I really meant to. My checkbook is still sitting on my desk. I started the purchase process several times, but soot kept happening. Cats to feed. Emails to answer. Internet burps.
After two days of this, I checked my ephemeris to make sure it wasn’t all down to the mercury retrograde (nope – it’s direct again). Could it be the solar flares? Probably not. If I was finding this many reasons not to do something that would take 5 minutes, I obviously had doubts about my plan. But were they valid doubts, or the undermining kind?
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Recently, a fellow HSP blogger raised the question of whether knowing one is an HSP might make depression a little easier to handle. In other words, could knowing you are an HSP help you to take a step back and become conscious of your own reactions and needs, instead of automatically acting them out? 

It’s so annoying to have to leave a job just when you’re getting good at it. I’d like to at least know what happened with my boss. I have the distinct impression our conflict was about something other than it appeared to be. Unfortunately, Mr. Not So Nice After All Guy isn’t owning up. Is that fair? Yeah, yeah, life ain’t. That doesn’t mean I have to like it.