I have a lot of things that I want to do this year. I want to do something with my writing. I want to run more. I want to spend more time building cool things out of Lego. There are other goals, but these are the three that I am most frustrated about right now. It may still be January, but I’m feeling like a bit of a failure on these three fronts.
I’ve always enjoyed blogging, one of my few outlets for exhibitionism. I’ve had all sorts of blogs over the years. They’ve always been fairly personal, though I did keep an anonymous blog once. I’ve run ads on a few, but I’ve never made a dime. So I ask myself, “why do I do it?”
Way back in the 12, I did my first NaNoWriMo. The lovely Mrs. Portmandia had been writing and I decided to join her in the attempt to write a book in 30 days. I hadn’t written anything longer than a blog post in 20 years, but I wrote a 50k word manuscript that didn’t completely suck. It might never see the light of day, but writing that manuscript rekindled my desire to write. So I did it again this last November. I wrote 50k words and I’ve been on a bit of a writing hangover ever since.
I went for another long run this morning. Just like last week’s long run, I looked off into the distance and couldn’t believe that I would make it. I did. I ran my eight and a half miles. On the way though I spent a lot of time thinking about writing. Last night I had a few friends over to talk about NaNoWriMo, and as I ran I couldn’t help but wonder what running could teach me about writing.
While I was out on a run Monday, I had three things going through my head. I was disappointed that I didn’t have a blog post scheduled for Monday, but I’d spent my evening playing Civ V and I really didn’t have much to kvetch about. I was steeping in my usual disdain for cyclists who wear black from head to toe in low-visibility conditions. The biggest thing on my mind was the run though, and that really came into focus as I turned a corner and saw a bridge in the distance. I thought for a second that there was no way that I could run that far, but then I realized that I’d actually be running past that bridge and over the one after that before beginning to turn home.
I’ve been adjusting. I left my day job just about a month ago and so I’ve had a lot of decompression and processing to do while I adjust to being the hausmann. Mrs. Portmandia has been doing her share of adjustment too, now that she has to bring home the artisinal bacon (and it better be artisinal, I’m not eating any of that major brand dreck). Now that I don’t have a job, it might actually be time to start getting some things done.
Yesterday I gave notice at my day job. I’ve been flipping books there for seven years and I have a lot of great memories and I now know far more about the book industry than I really wanted to. The real question is what do I do with myself now?