Saturday, November 4, 2023

Winter of our discontent, indeed.

Photo copyright Aji, 2023; all rights reserved.

It's a hard day out there. Nothing but drought-deepening contrail pollution, coupled with smoke haze. No chance of anything at all in the forecast past the middle of the month, and unless that changes rapidly and thoroughly, that means that we will lose more trees and plants over the course of this winter.

And of course, no one who could do a damn thing about it can be bothered. Winter of our discontent, indeed.

On every front, apparently, and I'm at the end of my tether, with absolutely nothing I can do about any of it. My Patreon is more than $200 down from last month, on top of the more than $300 it was already down from this summer, so I'm now down more than $500 a month, and we cannot afford that kind of hit. It'll also be a good four figures the rest of this week and next for autopays, septic service, and a few other one-offs, though, and I have no way to do it. 

And it's doubly hard to get anything done when your legs, feet, and hands don't work. the pain today is off the charts, and what progress I'd made on my right hand going back into place seems to have been wiped out overnight. In my sleep; I don't actually have to do anything for my join to to slip their traces. My illness also seems to be attacking my kidneys now, along with several other things, and I can't get hold of my doc, which probably means she's on vacation, which also means that I'm SOL. I spent Monday night wide awake and literally sobbing with pain, Tuesday night throwing up, and Wednesday night on the edge of throwing up again, although I narrowly avoided it, but also with everything off in the way it was when I nearly died six years ago. It's also not pleasant going to bed not knowing whether you're going to wake up. Oh, and those anniversaries are coming up, the first in less than a week, so I get to be reminded of how dying actually feels. I'm beyond my wits' end into uncharted territory now.

I need to make some sales. Nothing's working. I have three of Wings's latest pairs of earrings up, here, and here, and the newest ones, brilliant blues completed a few days ago, here. Selling those would be a start, but even that would be only a start. I've got to do better, but how? I feel like I'm losing my mind, and the unbearable physical pain just adds to that. It's been a terrible year on virtually every front, and now, nearing the end, I'm afraid we actually might not make it. I need help. There isn't any.

We have to make up a LOT of ground financially over the next two+ months. A LOT. This year has been so slow that we're way behind on everything, including prepaying next year's taxes [that's a zero; a big fat zero]. I need to bring in at least one sale a week, preferably two, for the remainder of the year. And it's clear that my illness's progression means that I cannot maintain the pace or workload I have in years past. That means that we need help with shares, and with testimonials, too. If you have some of Wings's work and are willing to have a testimonial published on the site, send it to me via the Contact form (we will list you however you wish, by name, name and initial, initials only, some other way that doesn't identify you; you can see an example in our newest, here, and with luck, I'll have a second one up by tonight). All the links are listed below, so please share:

  • Sales here
  • Testimonials here
  • Amazon wishlist here (liquid soaps are priority now [or Amazon cards, and I can order them myself]); 
  • Patreon here;
  • Ko-fi here.

There's lots of fabulous work on the site, and there will be much, much more in the weeks to come. The way this year has gone, things will still be grim for a good while and the holidays will be here before you know it, so please share all of the links. 



All content, including photos and text, are copyright Wings and Aji, 2023; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owner.                      

No comments:

Post a Comment