I’ve been setting my alarm for 6:00 a.m. every day, but my success rate of getting up when it goes off is hovering around 50 percent. This morning I crawled out of bed at 6:45. It’s 7:20 now. Given I haven’t gotten even one cup of coffee successfully into my mouth, it’s sort of a miracle I have the motor control to type this.
Of course, since this is really just a minimalist sort of check-in post–since chilly Sunday mornings should be all about snuggling with a book under a blanket and I plan to do just that as soon as this is done–maybe it’s not so miraculous after all.
Here’s how it’s going on the goal front:
I will spend three hours each day working on freelance writing. Done.
I will spend one hour each day working on this site. Done.
I will spend one hour a day doing whatever the hell I feel like doing. Done.
I will spend two hours a day reading books.Yup. I even have a review to show for it.
I will spend one hour a day doing something to improve my physical health. Firk! Ding! Blast!
After talking with people in my mental health posse–including someone who’s job description is some variation on “fitness coach”–I’ve reached the conclusion that my health goal is not specific enough. I was advised to turn it into a pure exercise goal and reduce the time, so that’s what I’m doing.
My health goal will now be: I will spend 30 minutes a day walking or hiking.
Other than that mid-stream tweak, I’m feeling pretty awesome about how things are going this round. I’ve sold two more articles since Wednesday, submitted three more, and have two on my hard drive crying out for revision.
I’ve also had two appointments with a very nice and knowledgable young woman who helps the mentally ill and mostly-totally-screwed get back to work–whether that’s working for someone else or running their own businesses. We’re still looking at things from 30,000 feet, but making progress.
I feel kind of sorry for her, though, since both of the appointments stressed me out to the point where I was babbling incoherently for most of them, but she’s probably used to that sort of thing.
All of this is to say that my personal optimism is at frighteningly-high levels. Things are going well, looks like they’ll be getting even better, and I’ve finally struck an ideal pace with my work.
Now to find my blanket.