I think I can finally accept the fact that I am not a blogger. I don't know if there is anything I've wanted so much to be able to keep up, tried so often to start again, and failed so predictably at every time. Oh, except in trying to keep my room consistently clean. That has an even worse track record of good intentions and bad outcomes.
So I don't know how much I'll try to keep this going. Ugh, I don't want to give up on it, but I'm tired of how guilty I feel when I don't post for a while. Especially considering my goal for this year.
Speaking of goals, I've failed all of them. Monthly exercise regimes, didn't even make it through January. Writing a lot on my fiction story? Ha, almost as soon as I wrote a post about how I'd gotten farther in my story than I have ever in any story before, I hit a wall and have gotten no further. I have been writing various random things frequently, but certainly not every day, and you are all aware of how my one blog post a week has been going. I suppose I did modify that last one to be 52 posts for the year, spread or clumped as I saw fit, but somehow I don't see me posting 35 more posts before the end of the year.
Mom warned me from the start not to be disappointed if I failed my rather ambitious goals, but I alas, heeded her not.