I knew this day would come.
I’m honestly surprised it didn’t come sooner.
I’ve crossed the 3 week mark of writing daily and I’ve … officially exhausted every idea that I’ve had about posting. I feel like I have nothing left to say. Which is absurd, really, because I’m living and breathing and experiencing the world.
I know from talking to friends who’ve done #The100DayProject, that this is about when things start to fall apart. The creative well begins to run dry and you run out of ideas. It begins to feel like you’re slogging through mud and that you are repeating yourself.
The good news is that I’m not letting this stop me from writing.
I’m still going to sit down and write, regardless of whether I feel it or not. Because that’s the only way it will get done.
Same thing with life and motherhood. I don’t always feel like showing up and doing the work. There are days where I wish I could hide in bed and ignore my responsibilities. But I show up anyway and get to work.
Not every day is an out of this world success.
Not every day is an epic fail.
Most days fall somewhere in the middle of interesting.
And so it goes, ever onward.