I don't work.

There are two ways in which that sentence is true.

I don't have a typical job. I'm what people, and my tax accountant, would call"self employed." I run my own business, if you can call it that.

What that actually looks like is me spending my days agonizing about all the things I'm supposed to do but haven't, all the people I'm letting down, and how everything I've built is going to come crashing down sooner or later. With the former feeling increasingly more likely.

Because, I don't work. My days are not spent doing enough "work."

I also, don't work. As a human, as a brain, as a member of society.

That's what it feels like, at least. Though I've done enough Cognitive Behavioral Therapy to recognize that assessment would be considered a "cognitive distortion."

But I can't help think that something stops becoming a distortion when the results are evident, and replicated, time and time again. No matter what I try, no matter how I try it, I end up here. A confused and terrified person surrounded by the consequences of non-productivity.

Whether it's because of laziness, unwillingness, or inability... it feels like a fair assessment to say -

I don't work.

Today's image: a warped exit sign at a construction site.