Today as I was leaving a business meeting I thought to myself, "I am so glad that it is finally Friday and I can go home to relax for the weekend!" Today is Thursday.
I had a good workout today. One of my favorite aspects of the gym I attend, is how the sense of competition, pushes me to do more and perform better.
Honestly I wanted to be napping write now, but I am addicted to writing, so here I am, writing instead of sleeping. It really is a compulsion. I don't mean that in a deep, artsy way, I mean it in a nearly pejorative way, like how I crack my knuckles too much.
I am done with writing all my poems for the breastfeeding book! I thought I was done. I am done with the poems, but after talking about it with my wife last night I am not ready to move forward just yet.
In my previous post, I owned my mistakes and took note of my progress and growth. Today, I would like to set some realistic goals for myself. I am resigned to continuing to write in 10 minute bursts, but I am looking to experiment with how that plays out. I feel like I should narrow my focus a bit to work towards completing my projects as opposed to just writing for its own sake.
Since November 5, I have had 38 opportunities to publish posts on my blog under the Monday to Friday prompt I set for myself. I have not met that goal. This will be my 21st blog.
My phone screen in cracked!
I am typing this on a physical keyboard, which feels fantastic by the way, on my wife's cheapo refurbished laptop she bought on Amazon months ago when a cat knocked down her previous laptop.
Due to time constraints and the typically high level of exhaustion I am working at, I can either stop writing or write when and what I can. Because I am so set on writing, I have decided to due just that and set aside time for myself to write what I can within a set time. These 344 words were wrought in the space of 10 minutes.
I like naked racism. I don't like racism. Hating someone because of how they look is stupid; its unproductive and unhelpful to the hater and the object of their scorn alike.
I like powerful women in the real and fictional worlds. I was raised on Buffy and Xena before her. As I grew older and wiser and more religious I felt pangs of the heart when I realized that I wouldn't feel so great sharing female superheroes with my daughters because so often they are framed in the most brazen physically attractive way possible.