The clock starts, I’ve been here before and I start to stumble. I stumble at the reasons why and then I wonder if I’ll stall a few days later. I keep coming back for more and I try again. I’m a persistent offender, a yo yo writer. Still I come back for more.
Blogging 101 is my friend, an implicit accessory to my crimes. I get all excited that I can do it this time, that I’ll go the distance, the habit will form and I’ll crack the hidden formula of what it takes to be a writer.
Maybe this time I’ve found the secret sauce that’s within me and that this time I’ve discovered that I need to define my own success.
I’m writing to track the progress of time, my journey with food, the family, the environment we live in. I write to beat the teachers who back in the day said I couldn’t and I write to prove the teachers who said I could that they were right.
The minutes are coming to a close and I’ve made it through today’s task. The minutes went by quickly and I’m excited, I’m back.