OK, so the last post drained me. And now that the football player has passed away, the mourning is leaving me without much to add on. On to lighter things lest I depress myself any further.
In my former life, I made a big deal about writing 100 posts. Since enrolling in NaBloPoMo, I seem to have whizzed past my 100th mark and on to greater things. I don’t have time to stop. I don’t have time to celebrate. I have to post POST HASTE! When this is all over, this little event for the month of November, I will have come away with the following realizations:
- I said I wanted to do it. I did it. Who knew?
- I’d been running my mouth long enough about how I was such a bad blogger for not writing at least one post a day, every day, except on the weekends. This must be what it feels like not to make excuses. It makes me light-headed. I’m not sure I’m used to the feeling.
- This must be what it’s like to write for a living. Stephen King said a writer writes. OK, maybe Stephen King didn’t say it first, but he said it in such a way that I’d remember – as a success.
I feel like I just finished an episode of a sitcom.