My Saturday was a write-off due to a series of unfortunate events that started with a mouldy muffin and ended with [you probably don’t want to hear about it]. I lay in bed until maybe two p.m, and then dragged myself to the living room easy chair for a change of scenery.
Around three a.m. I toppled back upstairs, partially disappointed in my lacklustre and achievement-free day, and partially proud that I had still managed to put some items of food and water-like products into my body. I fulfilled the basic criteria of being alive. That, I thought, would have to be enough.
And then I remembered, at three a.m, that the day was past over and I had missed my daily commitment. I had not blogged, I hadn’t even thought of it. The day was over. I missed it. I hadn’t even called in sick, which I hate doing anyway.
At that point, I was far too exhausted to even care or try to salvage some kind of scrap-sentence to post, just to say “I did it, I didn’t miss a day”.
So I wrote nothing yesterday, and maybe I’ll make it up. Or maybe I won’t. I’m not sure yet, but I’m not going to throw in the towel just because I stumbled a bit halfway through the race, if this could even be called a race.
I don’t think the point is to type out the words NO MATTER WHAT. The point is to type out the words often, habitually, and consistently. To type out the words even when I don’t feel like typing out the words, but to also recognize that some days – the days when I don’t change out of my pjs or brush my teeth or even achieve much beyond the minimum of keeping myself alive, and that is enough – some days are not for typing words.
It sucks when no-words-typing days fall in the middle of a type-words-every-day challenge, but sick days can’t really be scheduled (and if they were, I would have chosen Monday, not Saturday).
Here I am, anyway, calling in sick for yesterday, typing some words for today, and considering some more for tomorrow.