"We don't tell ourselves, 'I'm never going to write my symphony.' Instead we say,'I'm going to write my symphony; I'm just going to write it tomorrow.'" -- Steven Pressfield.
I tell myself this all the time. Oh, is it tomorrow already I meant um, how bout that weather eh? I talk a good game, but when it comes to delivering, performance anxiety somehow keeps showing up uninvited. I've really got to start taking those pills. Well, it's nanowrimo time and what better time to break bad habits than an arbitrarily designated international writing month. The average misery of the general populace must explode around this time of year. But it's all for a good cause and as I was saying why not follow the herd this time around if the herd is worth following and deliver on my word, deliver some words, do something unbelievably crazy. I feel fate pushing me forward. My time has come.
It's not easy staring Destiny in the face, she's got a sexy name, but don't be fooled she's one ugly demanding bitch. The journey so far has been characterized by fits and false starts, not to mention woefully low word counts, but every day the count gets a little better and I almost feel confident about calling off my long term relationship with Procrastination. I don't know where she got that name from, but I don't really care the attraction I feel toward her is intoxicating and the best part is she lets me do pretty much whatever the hell I want.
So at this point I can't get too complacent, my natural inclination is to do nothing. But not this time, mother *&%*^##@, it's time to stand and deliver. We bringing this baby home boys and girls.
Destiny awaits, in all her monstrous glory.