I’ve found setting challenges for myself useful in two ways: Challenges allow me a goal to work toward even if that involves some…procrastination…and challenges allow me to forgive myself if I fail to meet the goal.

So how am I doing at my challenges? I’m behind on every single one of them. Will they get done. Sure. When? At the last minute? Probably.

Are you going to get 29 posts in February? It remains to be seen. Are you going to count them? What’s the desired frequency for a blog these days?

So now I’ve done the thing I’m compelled to do and the thing I said I would do. It’s your turn for a challenge.

I hereby challenge you to:

find that thing in your work (at whatever capacity you work, yes even with/for yourself for which you may or may not get paid) that you are compelled to do. You must do it. Must. For your own sanity. Not because anyone else is making you do it. 

Find a way to do that thing today, no matter what. Then find a way to do it in your work.

It may feel like a small victory or a small rebellion but either way it should feel like a big step.

Hello god it’s me again. it’s now three am and my alarm is going to go off in an hour. but my head is so full of thoughts i had to get them down #3AMThoughts

I am compelled to write. As in, I don’t like it. It’s not a hobby of mine. I do it every day whether I want to or not. I have to. There are too many thoughts in my head.
So that’s one reason.
I’m writing anyway. Might as well write something publishable. This is currently my only outlet to publish.  There was a hope*writers challenge a week or two ago to create and publish something over the weekend.

challenge: accepted

Since I just finished editing my first novel for beta readers…

Yes, this is the first time I’ve announced my novel and WOW does it feel good…

Since I just finished that I thought why not do a crazy February challenge.. Only 29 days. Let’s do something crazy for Leap Year.

So I challenged myself:

Ok so here’s my challenge. I’ll post something every day of February. It might not be long and it almost certainly won’t be good but i’ve been inspired by a hope*writers challenge to write something and post it. No one can read my writing if I don’t publish it.

My challenge is to give you 29 blog posts in February 2020.

Well, this is it. The time has come and I’m only partially prepared. But that’s ok. I’ve challenged myself and that’s what a challenge is all about. 

 Challenge: noun

a call or summons to engage in any contest, as of skill, strength, etc.
something that by its nature or character serves as a call to battle, contest, special effort, etc.: Space exploration offers a challenge to humankind.
a call to fight, as a battle, a duel, etc.
a demand to explain, justify, etc.: a challenge to the treasurer to itemize expenditures.
difficulty in a job or undertaking that is stimulating to one engaged in it.

I am calling myself to battle. With the words, with myself, with the nature of this blog beast. I also like the ‘call to fight’ though this is not a duel, I am fighting plenty. My own fear and inertia. My lack of knowledge and experience.

This is not to see what I can do. I know I can do it. This is a test of will to force myself to battle my fear of putting my words out there. To ask for support, even to beg for it. To battle my anxiety. To battle my ignorance. 

I am going to wrestle with these things and I will conquer them. The good news is I don’t believe I’ll emerge bloody and bruised. I believe I’ve already done that. 

Today’s my nephew’s birthday. So I have to give him a shout out.

This song always makes me think of him because of the title, but I have a hard time applying it to his little self. He won’t be little always though and I hope he is the kind of person described in this song…

or if he’s as much like me as I fear…

wait for the person who is all of these things and more.

That’s all a little above him at the moment. For his birthday, I sent him a Wreck This Journal because I wish someone had given me permission earlier to make art the way I make it, which is often messy and involves tearing stuff up. I want him to know that he doesn’t have to be perfect or do perfect things, even if he holds himself to higher standard (something I sense in him already) than he holds others. I want him to know that his way is fine.

I’m the aunt. I can do that.

Next as promised, and highly anticipated by at least one reader, haha: why the hell am i doing this

*hopeididthatright*

I was going to put the lyrics here but I think it’s better if you just listen…

It’s always nice to know someone else on the planet has the same thoughts you do. Often that person for me is JMRAZ. I don’t know if we experience the same things or if he just has the courage to write down and sing about the things that happen in his head. I know the latter is true. So I’m going to do the same:

Oh it’s a calming, but often alarming, and oh it’s a conscious conversation with myself:

It went something like this:

I’m an idiot

You’re not an…

I’m an idiot

You’re NOT an…

I’m an idiot

YOU’RE NOT A FREAKIN IDIOT!

Oh.

…

Actually, I’m not an idiot. I’m new at this. Yeah. I’m learning. I’m not a freakin idiot.  psssshha.

Yeah, duh. Freakin idiot.

It’s ok to dance around it. Have it your way. And it’s ok to laugh about it oh for goodness sake:

Here’s another one:

Tuesdays are green.

What?

Tuesdays are green.

What does that even mean?

I have no idea but it must be true.

Ok. Makes sense, but I’m looking for a basic relationship. Anything will do. Association?

Nope. Just green. on Tuesdays.

It went on like that until I saw my morning pages where I had, the day before, categorized all my work into four colors:

red

blue

orange

and…you guessed it…

green.

So now I know I was trying to tell myself the plans I have for Tuesdays goes with the other money-making stuff.

And now you know what it’s like to be in my head.

Good old dad 👴🏻

I knew you’d come through for me, but I WAS prepared just in case…

I prefer my privacy too, but thinking about trying new things has me thinking about the way we converse. This may be the way we have to do it. Out in the open, like.

Where we have to think hard about what we say before we say it, because you never know who’s around/listening. You know, procrastinate before answering.

I don’t like being a millennial either. I can’t even spell it. Seriously. I feel it throws connotations all over me that don’t belong to me. I feel older than I am.

I feel the same way I hear my elder peers describe “getting old.” I am getting older and getting used to the idea that I’m going to keep on getting older. It finally dawned on me. I have a chronic illness. I feel thirty years older than I am. Heavy wings.

I’ve also learned heavy wings is not always a bad thing. It’s a great stretch and prime belly-rubbing position according to Piper

The more I embrace the term (Millennial) the less that bothers me. I’m also embracing that I’m the next generation ready or not so try to be ready.

That’s part of what this whole blogging experience is about…which reminds me I need to write about that. In the wisdom of waterskiing and Steve Harvey: You’re going to fall. It’s going to hurt. If you don’t jump, you won’t go anywhere.

Coming next: Conversations with myself

Then why the hell I’m doing this in the first place.

Bear with my technical difficulties. There may be three today.

Hi all,

It’s been a while.

That’s about to change. In fact, some big changes are coming soon…stay tuned!

linsey

Day 17: week in review.

It was all right. Considering.

It is still hard to sit down and write.

Today I’ve been reminded several times to be grateful.

Last, and maybe least, I’m grateful to me, for doing it anyway.