Just today, a part of my brain said, “It’s January 12. You are behind schedule.” Emphasis on you and behind.
I said, “Who’s schedule?”
When the new year commenced, I didn’t make a single promise. Not one. That’s unusual for me.
For the last number of years, I’ve had a reading goal on Goodreads. A Word of the Year. Various other resolutions and goals. Despite the fact I didn’t set any blogging goals last year, at some point, I settled into a once-a-week post.
This year. I’m too tired for resolutions, but we are twelve days in. I reserve the right to change my mind. Maybe February will be my month. I am open to the possibility of miracles. I’ve resolved to be kind to myself.
When my inner dialogue started harassing me about writing a little something for the blog, I took offense. I don’t like to be told what to do. Even by myself.
I wrote the post anyway. Then remembered why.