It's days like this, semi hung over and feeling strongly lackadaisical that it's hard to put together something resembling a post. It's times like this that I feel like Uma Thurman in that one scene from Kill Bill Where she's just escaped the hospital and is trying desperately to relearn moving her legs.
Wiggle your pinky toe.
Wiggle your pinky toe.
And so, by momentum, or force of will, or wherewithal and what-have-you I am here writing what I am sure will be a magnificent study in saying absolutely nothing as prettily as possible. But I won't drag this out, forever. This is a short post, so I decree it.
It's my blog, I'm allowed to decree things.
I watched an episode of The Tick today. I was surprised that it was actually pretty damn good. I'll probably finish it at some point.
NaNoWriMo.
Ugh. Why did I let her convince me to do it this month? I'm so annoyed with myself. I know damn well that having two major commitments is a pretty good guarantee that one or even won't see completion. My hard goal is to post to Steemit everyday. When I've done that well for a few months (nearly there) I'll maybe add commenting daily to the mix.
Right now I comment only when I'm of a mind, when I come across good posts, or when I'm in the mood to interact with the community. Or, I suppose, when folks comment on my stuff.
So I guess NaNoWriMo has officially become my soft goal - one that is lower on the priority ladder. I don't love it, as I'm not really a 'soft goals' kind of dude, but being realistic is also super important to me. Although I guess what I and what most people define as 'realistic' could be considered to be super different.
I am going to write at least a little today, however. I wrote some yesterday, so that was good.
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Sunday, November 5th, 2017
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