We’re in the middle of a deadly pandemic and my adopted home country is heading towards a disastrous no-deal Brexit, yet I am walking around the house with a smile on my lips and a spring in my step. Have I gone mad?
No, but I’ve discovered that whoever coined the phrase “don’t sweat the small stuff” got it completely backwards. What better way to deal with a big crisis than focusing on the small stuff?
I’m a woman of many positive qualities if I say so myself, but even-tempered has never been one of them.
I spent much of my childhood in a state of permanent rage, most of which was directed at my parents, teachers and doctors. My instinctual response to any threat was rarely flight, but fight, which in hindsight, served me rather well, especially when confronted with bullies.
I’m finally back from a much-needed summer-long hiatus, during which I’d planned to reflect on the future of my blog. It’s been five years since I started blogging, and I was beginning to ask myself, do I continue as before, change something or, stop blogging altogether?