Struggles

Even though by temperament I'm mercurial, I try not to reveal that side of me too often in print. Why? I guess because I don't like pollyannas, whining wears me out in a jiffy, and honestly, I haven't really learned to talk about myself at that level. Baring my soul makes me uncomfortable, the way you feel sitting in a doctor's exam room waiting for a shot.
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So anyway life feels hard right now. Resistant. Impenetrable. I can't get the traction I want with my writing. Work is marginally okay. Personal life is in the crapper. The people I want to see are busy and the people I don't want to see won't leave me alone. The damn dog won't quit scratching.
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This picture reminds me that I'm best off focusing on the things that bring me pleasure. Street art, for one. Bold, naive, even slightly defaced, but still pretty cool.