It's not even 10pm and I'm exhausted. If it was a Monday, Tuesday or Friday I'd have over another hour of work left. Now that I have a break from all the work, I feel like I don't want to go back. Funny how that happens. I'll be honest, I'm beat. I don't have anything to write about tonight. There's a large part of me that just wants to sit here and not think. Or at least not activity think. Writing requires far more effort than I prefer to exert at the moment. Yet, here I am typing away. I know there's about 50 of these types of posts from this year but here's the thing I have at least fifty crappy posts. It also means that there are probably 250 posts that are somewhat interesting to read. Yes, there are only sixty more days left to the year which means I've written more than 300 posts this year and I've almost completed my largest goal.
There is a sense of pride that I can't help but feel because I'm doing this thing. I'm almost done with my year's worth of writing. I had intended it to be more creative and interesting but there's a larger part of me that is really glad I've made more of a personal journal. I can't really call it a blog anymore but that's okay. It's an online journal that only those closest to me or the most random people read it and I'm really happy with that. I may not have wanted to write every night but some of my best entries were a result of my forcing it. Many times my not wanting to write was really a sign of my not wanting to face something. Some of my posts were wonderfully illuminating and I'm so grateful that I set this goal. I knew I'd be really happy about it but I couldn't begin to image just how fulfilling this process has become. Of course, I will not stop writing once the year is up. In fact, I hope to continue this long after the year is over.
However, right now, I'm done writing. I want to go to bed.
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