If I needed a confirmation this is the right way to go, yesterday provided it in spades. A Saturday rejection was accepted and moved on from in under an hour (probably less) pushing me to finish site back end work that’s been put off for months. My daughter came and hugged me before bedtime. Husband’s out this morning, cycling around the county and everything is pretty much as perfect as it is possible to be.
Yes, I’d like to win something, but to do that I need to get better first.
Is that better or Better, I find myself asking? I’ll grant myself the realisation that the mental side of things is more significant right now, that far more is being gained from the process of counselling than writing. However, that’s likely to alter as time goes on, obviously, especially as my work matures and develops. There has to be this continuous reminder, we’ve only been at this for two years.
Hard work matters everywhere: on an exercise machine, in the Gym, in relationships and friendships. I’m still kicking myself I missed a close friend’s birthday last week because that’s simply not where the head-space is right now. This is more thinking about myself than has taken place for a decade. As a result, and with other real life trauma to balance, I shouldn’t beat myself up too much about it. But I will.
That means being up this early on a Sunday to make the most of quiet time before the day starts (and cricket, it’s great to have a World Cup to listen to) and then focusing mind to actually get the jobs done that need work. Having almost completed all the back end stuff last night, that’s what gets finished this morning, after which I can finish off the first draft of the Southend poetry.
It is already a brilliant day, and it’s only just begun.