It was actually issued a week and a half ago, but I had a Gigantic Event Hangover, followed by strep throat for the first time in at least my adult life. Then, my car thought me stopping at a stop sign meant the entire engine should stop and I’ve only thought about that bill every minute of every hour for the past two days.
(Please send your spare change to the Danger the 2007 Pontiac Vibe Life Support Fund and I’ll make sure he sends you a signed 8×10 if he makes it out alive.)
The challenge went something like this: do something for 30 days. Doesn’t matter what. Just do it.
My challenge: I’m writing more.
Twitter and Facebook don’t count. Neither do emails, even though I could easily use that word count to complete a novel. My to-do list at work doesn’t count and neither do all of the things I should be writing in my kid’s baby book and don’t. Where else does that leave me to write?
RIGHT HERE, BABY. I can’t turn down a challenge.
The challenge wasn’t about quality or meaning or importance. It was about doing one thing for 30 days, so this is my attempt at being more intentional about something I used to do allllllllllllll the time. Plus blogging every day for a month has been on my personal 101 things to do in 1001 days every single time I’ve created one and yet never checked off.
Here we go again. Reminders are always welcome.