I haven’t been setting myself up too well to keep this blog going the past couple of days. I had some time in the day that I could have done it, but I woke up feeling especially weird and groggy and I couldn’t shake it. Didn’t even do any knitting. By the time I got into a state where I could do useful brain things, this evening, I found our internet connection had run away.
Now I’m full of Chinese food and I’m food-sluggish and it really feels like I don’t have anything of note to type. Because I hadn’t even thought about what I might want to talk about before I opened up the page to type it.
I’m still doing this, I’m sticking to it, but I’ve made it hard for myself. Because the idea of writing a daily blog is that you have to find something worth saying every day. That’s the difference between this and journaling – I’m putting something out there. But it makes it harder to press publish when it feels like you’re putting nothing out there.
I’m trying to make the most of the situation. And luckily, as we know, this is a low stakes game. But if I want to really create exceptional things over time, I’ve got to stop making things more difficult for myself.
There’s an inclination still in here, I think, to make it easy to fail, so that I have an excuse. So that I have an easy out. I’ve made it so that, in this particular instance, there’s a little voice in my head saying ‘it’s actually probably a better idea not to post today, because you don’t really have anything to say, and posting crap is kind of worse than not posting at all.’
Did I already have this argument with myself in another post? I think, in fact, I pre-emptively argued that doing it a bit shit is better than not doing it. So take that, little voice, the blog has spoken.