Yesterday I was able – in a moment of clarity amidst a 0500 Zoom conversation (this is the time that I'm at my best for work, not necessarily human interaction, be it in person or as one end of a 14 hour, transcontinental and equatorial time difference) – to publish via conversation a thought I've had for a long time: that I've reached a point where I've accepted that I won't have a "career" as a writer and have reoriented my perspective of (self)publishing things as a sharing of the results of my writing practice, results be damned. Far healthier, I think – trying not to let neither the frustration that it took me this long to get to this point nor the shithead in my brain's efforts to reframe the perspective shift as "that's how a loser talks" cloud the issue. Far easier than it used to be, but still.