I wasn’t naughty. I was indecisive and I don’t know what’s worse.
Please, don’t get me wrong. 2020 wasn’t a disaster for me like it was for many others. I did not lose my job; I live in the Baltic States, Europe, and we had no devastating first COVID wave, we barely felt it all. My WFH routine turned from “oh, poor thing, you have no colleagues” to something normal. I’ve been outside; not fly-away-see-places outside, but a solid part of summer and autumn was spent in open water, teaching people to dive.
The sad this about this all is zero change and development.
I had — and still have tons of options. I have a couple of brilliant app ideas which can be tested with little effort. I have fully designed plugins for Shopify and Trello which need just some polishing and launch. I still receive offers on my two years old AI articles on Medium — to write more, to advertise and collaborate or to participate in some projects.
This and a lot more were stopped by low-key anxiety brought in by 2020.
You know that primordial feeling that tells you to lie down, don’t move, don’t breathe, keep your metabolism low, because there is some unknown danger around? That thing.
That thing followed me for a year. I’ve seen it breaking people down at the…
