The New Pursuit

Four days ago, I set out to write a creative piece every day of the year. And, granted, it’s only been four days, and I’m honestly not looking forward to tomorrow’s project (Write a letter to someone you went to elementary school with. How in the world am I supposed to make that interesting?). But I’m loving it. And producing some very terrible writing and, I’m sure, a hundred typos a day.

But loving it!

I start thinking about the next topic and how to attack it as soon as I post the last one. I ponder it all day and all night long. It makes my dead-end job just a little more delightful and my day seem a bit productive. I get a huge sense of accomplishment when I’ve finished a piece, read it over, and slapped it on the webpage. I’m sure very few people actually read the darn thing, but I don’t care. It’s for me, not for them.

My only worry is that I won’t be this gung-ho about it in a week. Or in two. Or a month. I’ve never finished a year-long commitment in my life. Or that I’ll go on vacation and come back and never catch up again. Or never even start again after I’m out of town. That’s what happened with my wonderful workout regiment. Went wheelin’, came home, never ran again, gained 20 pounds. Oops.

This one feels different, though. Just a little. I’ve always loved to write, but the biggest challenge is never having anything to write about. With my grand list of topics (crossing them off one by one, just like Earl), I’m more than armed for the task.