Fuck off, 2020

sexy bra

2020 was awful. I wasn’t even going to do a write-up of this year, but seeing as I haven’t blogged a lot lately, I thought this would be a good way to add one more blog post to the year. Also, I can tie this in with Little Switch Bitch’s Quote Quest of the week, so killing two birds with one stone.

The quote of the week is:

What is Christmas? It is tenderness for the past, courage for the present, hope for the future.

Agnes M. Pahro

Tenderness for the past

Let’s tackle the first part of this quote first: tenderness for the past. I’m just going to take 2020 as the past and I can’t say I feel any tenderness towards it. It started out well with a new job for me. I actually enjoyed commuting into London everyday and my job was inspiring and challenging. Two months later, I started working from home and haven’t gone back to the office ever since. Luckily, I’ve adapted well to working from home and I don’t miss the hour-and-a-half commute (let alone the expense!).

Writing went well, too. I edited a novel I’d written last year, Completely Yours, and it’s up for pre-order now. I loved writing and editing this novel and I even paid a photographer for a photo shoot for the cover, which has turned out amazing, I think.

I wrote a few shorter works and my ranking on Amazon was going quite well until I was forced to take down my novels from Amazon (long story). I’ve kept the two long form novels on there, but my short stories are now only available on platforms other than Amazon and from my website. This has had a detrimental affect on my sales, as you can imagine, so I feel like I’m back to where I started at the beginning of the year. As a consequence, I’ve decided to stop writing erotica for the time being until I can figure out a way to bring my work back to Amazon. There is so much push back against erotica, I often wonder whether to just throw in the towel completely. That might still happen, I don’t know. It’s all a bit disheartening, especially since I thought this would be the year I’d start my erotica-writing career in earnest.

Health-wise (both mental and physical), this year has been hard as well. Mentally because of the pandemic, of course, and physically because I got kidney stones in August, which I wasn’t able to get rid of until November. Anyone living with chronic pain can tell you how awful and soul-destroying that it. It pretty much reduced me to only being able to focus on my day job for three months, thereby significantly reducing my blog and erotica output. I’ve since written one erotic short story, but sadly, that hasn’t got the creative juices flowing as much as I’d hoped.

Courage for the present

I’m still plodding on. My focus is currently more on getting myself out of my funk than on creating blog posts and short stories. Courage is something I sorely need, as I’m very close to just giving up – on this blog, on Isabelle Lauren, or erotica in general. Sometimes I feel I’ve had a good run and the universe is trying to tell me it’s time for me to give up. Other times, I’m determined not to let a few setbacks keep me down.

I haven’t seen anyone other than my immediate family since mid-March. That isolation can really get to you. I’ve been too scared to see others, even when socially distancing, and since my family lives in a totally different country, we’ve been unable to form a bubble with anyone. Christmas was nevertheless lovely, but I do feel tired and discouraged at the moment. I’d love to go out and share a bottle of wine with a friend, just chatting until we’re too tired (or drunk) to make sense anymore. Maybe one day…

Hope for the future

Haha, this one’s a laugh. I don’t believe for one second that 2021 will be any better than 2020. Sure, there’s a vaccine and maybe life will go somewhat back to normal. I might even be able to see my family in 2021. And yes, Donald Trump will be gone from the White House, which should make the world a safer place. But I still live in the UK, which was once such a desirable place to be (for me, at least) and is now just a horrible place to live. As a European, I’m scared for the future, scared of the implications of Brexit and without hope for my children’s secured future. Plans to emigrate (again) are rumbling in the background, but right now, it depends on whether we can find jobs elsewhere, which isn’t looking great. And that writing career I’d hoped would take off is no again non-existent, so there goes that dream.

So no, I can’t see much hope for the future. Everything is shit. I really hope I’ll come back at the end of 2021 raving about how amazing the year has been and how much has changed. A lot can change in a year, I’m well aware of that. But I don’t see it happening right now.

And on that depressing note, it’s time to end. I’ve chosen a picture of my boobs for this post as I like it and why not? Nothing needs to make sense anymore and at least that picture gives me some joy.

To read others’, more optimistic, contribution to Quote Quest, please click the link below.


3 Replies to “Fuck off, 2020”

  1. I love the bra you are wearing – it is really pretty and actually quite unusual.. I feel your pain – quote literally too – I am a chronic pain sufferer and I understand it is not a fun place to be. 3 Glad you are on the mend now though. x

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