Hobbling. 

Every night, I fall asleep in front of the tv, eventually waking up with a start and coming upstairs in a haze — only then remembering that I still haven’t written. 

Most nights, like tonight, I remind myself that this is my own set of rules — that nothing is riding on it. I committed to blogging daily and if I don’t do it, the sky doesn’t fall. 

Often, commitments to myself are the easiest to break, but somehow not this one. And so, each night, bleary eyed and foggy headed, here I am, hobbling toward the finish line. 

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