You know when you come into the new year with all these great intentions:
- Go to bed early
- Drink more water
- Eat Healthier
- Exercise more
- …
The list usually goes on. We try to make ourselves that image of perfection our brain has been comparing us against our whole lives. I’ve done this, too. Bend myself over backwards to live up to the great January birthing of my best self.
In recent years however, January means the beginning of 8-12 weeks of insanity with family commitments, Girl scout cookies, Dance Comps, Soccer games, band concerts, etc.
My 2nd, 3rd and 4th part time jobs. Not to mention my 9-5. This year we get to add college visits and driving lessons to the mix.
What about my writing? Well… It’s the season where I’m absolutely delulu to believe I can accomplish anything other than marginal parenting and ensuring children and husband are in the right place at the right time.
So… here is my confession. January has me dragging-ass tired. “Muse” is nagging the edge of my brain and I’m desperate to get the read of my book through this current iteration. It’s not for lack of desire to do these things, just finding myself without enough hours in the day where I am vertical and not passed out on the couch.
Now… if only I can find some time to take down the xmas decorations.
Be kind to yourself. It’s my aspiration.
I usually fail, but a girl can dream.
-Liv 🍪❄️🚙⌛😭
