Oh sure, the excitement's there now, right? I've just created my neat and orderly little place in the world where I can sit and write and write and ponder and dream of... whatever. But will my days come and go, or will I commit? For writing is as breathing. And when I do not, I can feel it. I suffocate a little and shine a little less, I think.
Other things I intended to do this somewhat still new year:
* photograph my children daily from the start of each boy's birthday... didn't happen
* clean EVERYTHING... didn't happen
* schedule EVERYTHING... kinda happening, but not entirely
* speak with my half-ass British accent every chance I get (namely, in anonymous situations)... can't BELIEVE that hasn't happened
My point is that everything that matters simply has to find a home in my life. It just has to. And while this has been a long time coming, I suspect it will be a long time staying as well. Now, if only I could get back to keeping my digital photographs organized. Snap... didn't happen.
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