Missed a couple days there, but I’m back. Between getting sick and hay fever, I’m feeling totally wiped out. A good Saturday with friends planning adventures and watching a show; a lazy Sunday where I woke up late, took a few naps, and tried to recover a bit. After a busy day, even writing this feels pretty effortful, and I’ve got a whole evening to figure out.
I’m feeling some sort of itch to change what this blog looks like again, I’m just not sure what that change should be. Maybe it’s just that I need to push through and write more, or try to push projects forward so that there’s more to write about. Nothing highlights how relentlessly similar most days are to one another more-so than keeping a daily journal.
I’m almost surprised that for months I could sit down and write something sort-of novel every day. It ended up feeling sort of meh after a while, but I’m almost certain I could do it for months longer if I needed to. Maybe that’s what some writing careers are like, just churning out an only-okay idea on a regular basis. I don’t think I have the patience.
Maybe I should be finding more inspiration in the every day; in the mundanity and repetitiveness of it all. There is something beautiful in it, and I think I find comfort in it, but I suppose that doesn’t mean it would be fun to write about every day. I should re-read Pilgrim at Tinker Creek and learn how to really notice. May we all notice like Annie does.