For my birthday, my partner put together the sweetest, most thoughtful surprise I could ever imagine. She recognized that I had been in a complete creative rut the previous year. I'd complain that I work too much, play too little. I'm too tired. Way too busy. This, that, and the other thing is blocking my time. Sometimes I would straight up conclude that I'm just not good at anything—a collaboration between imposter syndrome and plateauing.
