A Writer's Notebook, Day Seven-Hundred-And-Thirty-Six

 I am going to keep this short again.  I just am not certain what their is to say tonight.  It's not a major revelation that I did my writing, or that I am feeling dejected after receiving another rejection, and it is not helpful for me to repeat my consideration of those issues in the same ways.  It is how things are, and I do not have any idea what I can do at all.  I feel stupid even considering my problems, when I look at the larger issues of the world, and I already felt guilty about being in a bad mood and the impact of that on others, especially Melissa, especially right now when we are still, essentially, in quarantine together.  I need to figure out some way to improve things, which is the same thing I have said for months, and repeating the problem is not a way to solve it.  I an sick of feeling that all I can do is say I don't know what to do when I know I must do something.

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