You know me. I try to always be polite, reply to every comment, read all the blog posts of those I follow, and do my best to be part of our great community. I share stuff on Twitter when I can, host guest bloggers, and feature as many other bloggers as possible. I write fiction serials, photo-prompt stories, film reviews, and tell everyone about Ollie my dog.
At times, (frequently) I let out my frustrations by having a good moan or rant about blogging etiquette, followers who don’t follow, and other such pet peeves.
But most of the time, I am just ‘Me’.
We have all had a bad year in 2020. For some, the stresses and strains of the pandemic have been added to by becoming ill, bereavement, or employment issues.
I don’t have that much to complain about, I really don’t. I have survived eight months of a killer virus that primarily targets people in my age group. I have managed to remain financially stable, overcome a few domestic issues around the house, and even get work done by contractors.
I continued to enjoy blogging and writing, and the company of my online friends in this community. Despite serious medical problems for Ollie, he survived those, and remains my constant companion. He provides me with a sense of responsibility that I might otherwise have lacked. Having him makes me get up and get ready, leave the house on long walks in the countryside, and interact with local people. I doubt I would do a tenth of that, without Ollie.
So why have I suddenly become so moody, irritable, and losing focus?
I have no idea.