Ha. Ha. Ha.
Success. Dedication.
I laugh in their faces.
Because that's easier than facing them and admitting that I let both of them down.
I have not been writing.
I have not been cleaning.
I have not been eating slowly.
I have failed in every way in all of my feathers. Big. Fat. Fs.
But you know what the funny thing is?
Somehow, I don't feel bad.
And that, strange as it is, is most definitely a good thing.
You know what it means?
My perfectionism is loosening its constricting grip. I'm learning to work with myself and be happy with myself.
I've failed, yet I don't feel like a failure. I feel like my life is more under control than it has been in a long time. My room has boxes and crates and bags and clothes everywhere in preparation for moving, moving OUT and I feel oddly calm and controlled.
What is this? Am I maturing? Is that what this is?
Or am I perhaps getting used to my failure?
I don't know. Either way, I feel like I'm no closer to figuring out what this blog is supposed to be doing. Or, for that matter, what I'm supposed to be doing with this blog. But the feather thing is, perhaps, going to take a sabbatical.
I would appreciate so much if whoever reads this would take the time to comment on what kind of blog you think I should write. A personal/lifestyle blog? A project blog? A beauty blog? What am I?
Love you all.
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Hey random person!
I'm so glad you've taken the time to tell me something. It means so much to me to know that I'm being read and heard. Thank you, thank you, thank you *Grovels*