Potayto, potahto.

Day 280, 85 days to go before end of year. And, once again, I have about four things to show for it.

Not good for someone who FranklinCoveyizes her life weekly. Where’d the important stuff go? I’ve started calling these “episodes” my Cyclical Funkification. The mood swings, the harboring of bad feelings that I could have–should have–accomplished more this year. And it’s not really like I’m beating myself up or am a stupendous perfectionist (well, I am, but that’s besides the point), it’s that I’ve had nearly 12 months to make up for things and I haven’t done so.

I know what my “list” is and I know what I need to do to achieve my goals, both personally and professionally, but, alas, things never get done. Or better yet, I never do the things that need to get done. Me. All me.

And so, I’ll write in my journal about how another year has come and gone and how I haven’t made enough efforts for whatever and how I’m so disappointed in myself over and over, but never really seem to give that much of a rat’s patooty to change my ways.

Now, I will sit and brood in my own filth and shame for approximately 18 – 22 hours.

Open Wide

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