It’s day 33, so I’m one third down on my attempted 100 days of blogging. I’ve kept on track, but I don’t feel like going woo-hoo. I have a headache and I feel like slacking off. My head is completely empty (except for the headache, which seems to take up large areas). I tried going through a couple of prompts on the Daily Post site, but nothing really inspired me. I tried just writing, but that didn’t work either. Sometimes that does work, just writing and writing until something starts to emerge from the horrible mess. Not today.
Deciding to post every day wasn’t maybe such a great idea after all. I’m gonna do it, since I’ve said I would, and I’m way too stubborn to give up. But I regret it. If you are contemplating doing this, don’t. It’s hard work. At least give yourself one day off per week, or even month. For those people who write every day for a year, all I can say is, kudos to you.
Not that I’m sure a day off would necessarily help. The days when you don’t feel like writing are usually days when you’ve been too busy, and you’ve had too many non-blog-related things on your mind, or then they are just really, really bad days. I occasionally suffer from bursts of despair that leave me wanting to dig a hole in the ground and live there, equipped with a large mug of hot chocolate, some books and a warm blanket. Those are not necessarily the best days to post anything online. But I have to do it. I’m sorry. Now it’s your headache, too.
But in the end I am glad I’m here, and I’m glad that I’m writing. If I hadn’t come up with this hare-brained scheme, I can guarantee, with 100% confidence, that I would not be writing now. I would be sitting on the sofa, watching telly with hubby. So I’m not sorry. I’m sorry I have a headache and that today wasn’t the best of days, but I’m not sorry that I’m writing. There. I am writing.
Aw, who am I kidding. I’m going to go watch telly on the sofa. Tomorrow, I will rise like a phoenix, and write something tolerable. Promise.