I really need to start writing again, consistently.
Doing yoga, drinking tea, reading, playing piano, playing guitar, singing, biking. I have this… picture, in my head, of how lovely life could be if I’d just get my act together. But there’s always something getting in the way: interruptions, laziness, habit. I spend so much energy stressing over getting an office job and picking a grad program that all I really manage to do is stare at the television and eat. Yuck.
What I really want to do is write; so why don’t I? I am not lazy, that’s a label, an excuse. Rather, I have gotten into the habit of behaving lazily. And letting what I think other people think distract me. Boo.
But tomorrow, tomorrow I will try again.
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