As someone who did the remote thing for ~4.5 years (not really by choice, just seemed to work out that way), it’s aggressively not worth it. You don’t realize what you’re losing until you hit a point of complacent nothingness.
Your mother is problematic. Your father is problematic. Your son is problematic. Your aunt is problematic. The cashier at the local Tesco is problematic. You've probably bought a cookie from a bakery made by hands that have done unspeakable things. Every chocolate bar you've ever eaten has probably killed a 7 year old child slave in Cameroon. The gas that drives your car is fueled by engines of death. Every person who has ever smiled at you in the streets has committed some act that if you knew about it, would make you profoundly dislike them.
We have all been bad, small, petty, unlikeable, cruel, downright mean. Authors are not special "problematic" beings, they're just more public. Part of being an adult is recognizing that without mercy for our fellow human beings, and ourselves, we'd all be condemned to death. Reading fiction should help us understand that we're all irreparably tainted with evil, every system is corrupted, every line is broken.
And like, that's okay. That's what it means to be alive.
I hate you blue light I hate you infinite scroll I hate you ai customer support I hate you onedrive I hate you no usb port I hate you two factor authentication I hate you accept all cookies I hate you autoplay I hate you subscription I hate you buy more storage I hate you