I’m not what you would call the most stable person.
I don’t deal well with change.
So, I bought a bunch of self-help books.
You know the kind:
Throwing the elephant.
Who moved my cheese.
Don’t sweat the small stuff.
Those kind of simple wisdom things that work well when you’re a rich author who’s hoodwinked people into buying your crap writing, but doesn’t work in practice.
My shelf is full of these paperbacks.
And over the years, the sun has bleached the spines so they’re all faded and white.
Which is fine. They’re all the same useless crap anyway.