I’m ready. Balls-to-the-wall, sleeves rolled up, let’s do this. New life, startinnnnng…. NOW.
(photo from tumblr)
Here we go again.
I haven’t written anything in a few days. Scratch that, it might be approaching two weeks at this point. Two weeks without fiction or journalling. Two weeks of barely even maintaining my planner. Two weeks may not seem like much, but two whole weeks without creating anything is like drowning. Not only does it feel awful, but with every day that slips by it gets harder and harder to get started again.
It’s not even a block, not really. It’s… an absence. Whole days pass without even the inkling to pick up a pen or to open a text program.
Bizarrely, I’ve been super productive lately in other areas. I’ve been baking up a storm, knitting a very secret Christmas gift, deep cleaning and streamlining the house. But the more I seem to get done in my day-to-day life, the more it seems my career is suffering. It’s completely unacceptable.
I’ve decided that enough is enough. One whole year of my five-year career plan has slipped by, and I’m not where I thought I would be. I’m not where I need to be. But today starts a new month. I’m considering December a practice run before the new year kicks in.
In four years I don’t want to look back and realize I let myself down.
This is it.
(photo by Colin Harris)