368

I made a promise to myself that I would have something published by the time I was 40.  That clock just keeps tick, tick, ticking away.  I find myself creating excuses instead of words.  I can blame everything else (work, self-employment, kids, husband, house, sunshine, rain, migraines, James Bond, carpal tunnel, volunteer hours, meetings, teaching, bills, the baggage retrieval system at Heathrow), but deep down, it's just me.  If I'm truly serious about this, it's time to stop dicking around.  I have 368 days left to prove something to myself.  I need to get out of my own way and get it done.