Failure To, Well, Do Anything


Oh, yikes, it’s Friday again.

Today I am heading to New Jersey for their fabulous conference. I will be the sole Risky in attendance (and yes, I am bringing buttons, fellow Rs!), and I look forward to hanging with old friends and making some new ones. Oh, and attending a few workshops, of course.

But this week, in personal terms, has been a dud. First off, although I wrote–and wrote well–this week, I only managed one day of writing. And one day of exercising. And I regained the two pounds I had lost the week before (to which I say, WTF?). So last night I made some Bad Choices and should have done some things and did others instead. I have to run around like a crazy person packing for Jersey and stressing because there’s just never enough time, except for when I waste it.

So now I hate myself.

Which means you all have to suffer, too.

No, not really.

Yes, you do.

No, not really.

Ye–anyway, I am always up for a resolution, especially if it is public, so I am resolving to make Good Choices and try to write, even though sometimes it seems as though I am writing only for me (can you tell I haven’t heard anything yet from my agent about my submission? Yeah, like that.).

And exercise, because it’s good for my heart and stuff.

And I do feel good about going to Jersey, and I hope not to be a ninny, and get some benefit out of going. I am looking forward to Halloween (my son is going as Kiss’s Gene Simmons, his idea, not ours!), and pumpkin ale, and cute sweaters, and getting to 25,000 words, and visiting with relatives, and lots and lots of tea.

Okay. Hold onto those good thoughts, Megan.

What is your surefire way for getting out of the doldrums?

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