Oh, December, Here We Go

Photo by Atle Mo on Unsplash

I have all these goals, and shit.

Literally.

The chronic battles with my bowels and the all too common but never talked about IBS that plagues millions of women in America but gets slid under the rugs and the above the fold lines because — ew — who wants to talk about poop, right?

But we need to talk about the poop, people!

Literal and figurative poop, it all needs to be talked about.

I started a new blog today on a domain I’ve owned for almost a year, and because I suffer from imposter syndrome and from “oh my god, what will my friends and family think of me syndrome” which is actually even worse, I’m going to be writing what will probably turn out to be my best work anonymously.

That’s just the way it goes, sometimes.

And sometimes the best works in the world aren’t even recognized until their creators are long dead and gone, and that is much more sad than just staying incognito until maybe, one day, maybe I’ll be brave.

But, goals, and not necessarily about shit:

  • Post something every day on Medium. Which is a trite, common and maybe not even consequential goal that everyone and their brother on this platform seems to have, but I’m all about setting myself probably unreachable goals, so why not?
  • Post a poem every day on this other blog I have somewhere and don’t talk to people about, because ya know I’ve always considered myself a poet and I am so fucking sick of being all talk
  • Keep working on the novel I started and didn’t finish last month, again.
  • Get PAID to write something online. This is my biggest goal. I am subscribed to a freelance writing course and I’m hoping that by the end of December, if I don’t actually have money in the bank from something I pitched and wrote, I’ll have a contract for it. That will be good enough for me.

I’ll come back to this post in January and see how things fared, but for a moment let us all just take a breath and give a silent moment of thanks that 2017 only has one month left with which to bitch slap us with its ridiculousness, and that Trump has one less year to be president, if not even less than that, Amen.

Hey, look at me having hopes and dreams for the future, eh?