I’ve been so busy lately. I’ve been: continuing | overdoing | trying | putting | wondering | starting | feeling | taking | finding | getting
I’ve had a hard time figuring out my goals for this year, let alone how to talk about them.
I’ve been tempted to just write last year off entirely, to look at the admittedly ambitious targets I set a year ago, the things I still want to accomplish, and start fresh. Pretend that—as far as my personal and professional goals go—2020 just never happened. Go back to zero and start again.
But that’s not going to work, is it?
I didn’t want to write this post.
I wanted to be able to write about how I wrote every day—or at least most days—in October, and about how happy I am with the progress I’m making on Birthday Girl. I wanted to be able to write about settling into a good routine, at the very least.
But I can’t write about any of that, so this is the post I’m writing instead.
Ugh. These past few weeks have been… not the best? I’ve been: worrying | trying | finding | sorting | having | enjoying | watching | feeling | thinking | getting
I keep feeling like things are getting better.
Welcome to September. A few days late, but time is still weird so I’m not going to worry about it too much.
I’ve been in a weird mood the last couple of weeks. I’ve been: figuring | breaking | trying | feeling | setting | attending | learning | going | hoping | starting
July was another slow month. It wasn’t bad, exactly—it was probably the most productive and creative month I’ve had since this whole thing started—but it didn’t live up to my hopes going in.
It’s not really an issue with the work I’ve been doing. It’s that there’s still a disconnect between my plans and expectations and the reality of the situation. My good days have gotten so much better than they were back in April or May, and my bad days aren’t nearly as bad as they were (I don’t spend nearly as much time staring into the void these days), but still.