This post started off the same way I have felt my entire life. Just to think this all happened with a lofty goal of 15 Minutes a day…..
Every New Years throughout my late twenties and early thirties, I had the same resolution at the top of my list: to start writing again. In college, I could easily spend hours scribbling away in a notebook, coming up with sketches and monologues for theater classes while journaling in the evenings for my own self. Something about being in my early 20’s made the writing come easily–maybe it was the lack of stress and the abundance of free time. With adulthood came more responsibility as well as full-time work, and I no longer filled empty page upon page on a weekly basis. Years passed, and the trickle slowed until it dried up completely. Sometimes I’d look back at the journal I’d optimistically start in early January the previous year, and realize I’d only written one entry, failing miserably at my resolution.
In the fall of 2012, I was laid up…
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