Thirty thousand words. That’s what the recommended count is on my portfolio for my end of year project. That’s considerably more than double my longest project to date. Sometimes I wonder if I’ve even written that much in my lifetime, as I do have a tendency to keep things as short as possible, mainly so I can go frolic outside or catch the latest episode of Glee. True Detective… I meant True Detective.

Since the beginning of May, our second semester of the MA in Writing in NUIG has been finished, yet I’ve been quiet on Medium; I haven’t even had time to bash out the latest: 50 Bestest TV Shows of All time (but don’t worry — it’s coming). Why? Well, one could guess that I’ve been busy hunched over my desk, bashing out stories, articles and reviews, then revising them to be so witty and sharp they’d give Stephen Fry a papercut caused by laughter spasms. If one did guess that though, one would be wrong. So wrong. I’ve been working. In a Job. For Money. I’ve been catching up with old friends, watching Game of Thrones, going on awesome weekends. I’ve been turf turning in the sunshine, drinking wine by a weir, Netflix binging. Also, I have barely written anything longer than a text.

After planning on having a first draft done by the end of June, by the 26th I had barely hacked out a character outline, and the fear was setting in. This is why today’s post isn’t so much of a blog entry as it is a very solemn oath: for the entire month of July I am not going to watch one TV show or film nor ingest a single unit of alcohol.

So far it’s going well; this weekend has been the first one in a long time where I haven’t had at least one — if not several — tipples, and it may be the only one in my adult life where I have ignored the offerings of the telly box. I’ve been reintroduced to the papery things of my youth, whaddyacallits? Oh yes, pre-kindles. The gaff is spotless, and I’ve bought and cooked things with ingredients instead of just unwrapping then microwaving them. I even went for a little jog this morning. Hmmmm, this is what being a functional adult must feel like.

I am aware, however, that sometimes things that seem like fantastic concepts at first often devolve into something terrible. Three years ago I did a lemon cleanse. Detox they said. You’ll lose weight and gain energy, they said. Needless to say 10 days eating nothing but lemon juice, cayenne pepper and maple syrup did not bode well for my immune system. Not only did I almost ended up bludgeoning a stranger because they were holding a McFlurry, I also got the flu. In hindsight literally starving myself wasn’t the best of decisions. I’m sure this will all work out fine though. It should, right? What could possibly go wrong?

Wish me luck.