Another five hundred

So, I have been working all day. The good kind. The writing kind. With the keyboard clacking and my mind going almost blank as the story just appears on the screen. I hit my flow and it was spectacular. I was in it for a few hours. But now I am exhausted, physically and mentally, and I was not looking forward to another five hundred words.

I mean, haven’t I already done that today? Does it really matter where I publish my work, or if I send it out into the world at all? Not really. But this is how I am going to keep myself accountable. This is how I going to push myself forward.

It’s not even about the number. Not all these posts are five hundred words. Some aren’t even close. But that’s not the point either. It’s the muscle memory. It’s building the need so it overwhelms the apathy. Good habits are not always the easy ones.

And I really like this time of night. It gives me a chance to reflect on my day. That pause from the bigger projects really comes in handy and helps to keep me charged. Those larger projects are years’ worth of investment. They’re the long haul I don’t know if I will ever finish. These five hundred words though, these I can get finished. I can look back on my work and see what I have completed.

This is my sandbox. I get to play here, both with my voice, and with my arguments. I am not sure if it will always end up in these personal essay formats, but so far that’s the shape they are taking. That’s the point. To not overthink it, to see what shakes out, and to challenge myself to do even better tomorrow.

Another five hundred words is another opportunity.

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