I like to torture myself.
Now before you get all upset about that statement, let me explain. I decided this morning that I would check and see how I’m doing on the goals I set for myself this year. I thought I’d maybe be able to pat myself on the back a wee bit for a job well done.
Oh how incredibly fucking wrong I was.
But do you know what the great thing is about goals? You can keep working on them until you reach them. And if they’re too crazy hard, you can modify them. The best difference between a goal and a resolution, like a New Year’s resolution, is that a goal will never imply that there’s something wrong with you that needs to be fixed. Goals imply that you’d like to make a change or an improvement and they encourage you to get there.
So I haven’t been making the kind of progress I had hoped with the goals I set for this year, but my world hasn’t ended and I certainly don’t feel like I haven’t accomplished anything. Actually, not doing so well with a few of my goals is helping me to see areas that really do need improvement.
No experience is truly a failure if you learn something from it.
This weekend is going to be chock full of fucks for magical shit. I’m going to hang out with Lancelot, I’m going to work on my grad school application, I have a gorgeous (and amazingly easy) purple shawl with me to work on, I’m going to cook, and I suspect there will be snuggles aplenty.