I’m actually writing this post in the depth of March, pretending to you and to myself that it won’t matter that I missed the self-imposed deadline on January 1, 2021.
January. The month of new beginnings, fresh starts and hope. Is there hope after missing a deadline so completely that it’s not really missed but obliterated? I don’t know. I do know I feel defeated by my fears and inability to get things done on a deadline, in a measured pace. I chafe at deadlines unless I am well ahead of them. Once I fail to meet the mark I flounder.
So this is me owning up to my mistakes. Uncharacteristically. I usually gloss over mistakes and pretend it doesn’t matter. I read a Jack LaLayne article once where he confessed to his wife he didn’t want to exercise that particular day. His wife said, skip it today. No one will know. Jack said, but I’ll know.
I know. Years ago my son’s wrestling coach said when you cheat, you cheat yourself. True dat.