April 1 to June 30 is 100 days.
**PLEASE NOTE: I’ve since realized that the above time frame is actually 91 days, not 100. (30+31+30) You’d think I purposely set myself up to fail.**
There are lots of hundred day challenges floating around the internet, and they don’t necessarily start April 1. Most of them are about fitness goals.
I have fitness goals. But I’m stuck with this body until I die, so any fitness thing I decide to do needs to be more long term than a few months. I did a crash diet once, and it worked, and then the pounds came back, and they brought some friends with them. Dammit.
So instead I chose a writing goal. Every day from today through June 30, I will either post a blog or spend an hour writing. And if I were a gambler, I’d bet the lot that I don’t do it. I’m a tad flaky when it comes to self-imposed challenges.
Me: I want to write a book!
NaNoWriMo: Here’s a month long challenge to write 50k words, and here’s message boards and moderators and adorable merchandise to help you!
Me after day one: Yeah, I’m not doing that.
Me: I want to read nonstop for 24 hours!
Me at hour zero: Whatever, I think I’ll just watch YouTube crap all day.
It’s pretty frustrating to know about all of the things that I honestly want to do, knowing that life is short, and still knowing that I am the biggest obstacle to me achieving my own goals. I had a birthday recently. Forty is getting closer, but I still don’t think I’ve really started acting like an adult.
I want to write. So, I’m going to write. That’s how adult-ing works, yeah?