My Struggle with Titles and subtitles

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Abstract

a day with too much chaos. A little is good for the soul, keeps you sharp, but c’mon, a world run by Trumps and Trudeaus is just too much.Then the anxiety refreshes as my Medium page loads and I remember… the device on which I rely to produce such joy will only break my heart once again as I try, desperately try, to format the title and subtitle the way all the other kids have.I break my crayon in frustration, “why me?” Is it too much to as

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k that technology works for me? Ironically I spent most of my adult life working with technology. Well not so much working with it, as testing and repairing it. What kind of terror did I sow into the stream of technology that it hates me so? Why must I be presented with this obscure challenge, blocking my ability to find peace and comfort every time I try to write?Perhaps this way lies insanity and death, but what is life without writing?</article></body>

I must continue to write, using the pain of incorrectly formatting as fuel

Scotts Bay surf — image by author

Another Friday evening, all is quiet in the village. It is my time to relax, enjoy reading, writing, finding the Zen after a day with too much chaos. A little is good for the soul, keeps you sharp, but c’mon, a world run by Trumps and Trudeaus is just too much.

Then the anxiety refreshes as my Medium page loads and I remember… the device on which I rely to produce such joy will only break my heart once again as I try, desperately try, to format the title and subtitle the way all the other kids have.

I break my crayon in frustration, “why me?” Is it too much to ask that technology works for me? Ironically I spent most of my adult life working with technology. Well not so much working with it, as testing and repairing it. What kind of terror did I sow into the stream of technology that it hates me so? Why must I be presented with this obscure challenge, blocking my ability to find peace and comfort every time I try to write?

Perhaps this way lies insanity and death, but what is life without writing?