I’m having a day. Not a bad day, but a day at loose ends, and day in which I feel all over the place. Unhappy in what I’m doing but not sure what I should be doing. I want to do something different now; I want to pour it all into my writing; I want to do something different for work while I build this writing career that feels like a dream.
It’s hard to know what’s best — the smart thing or the fuck it who cares it’s what I want to do no matter what thing.
It’s days like this when my belief that the universe has my back, and that the reality that I dream of already exists, feels foggier. It’s hard not to get discouraged on days like this. To just feel overwhelmed, not know where to start, and despair of ever getting anywhere from not starting anything.
But then I think of what I might have done if I’d just plodded along doing something every day for the last ten years up to now, and it makes me feel better about just plodding along now, doing what I know feels right, every day, even if it feels like nothing.
ScarletQuill 