I started a new blog completely dedicated to every day. It has been eleven days, and amazingly enough, I have managed to write a post every day. A journal entry of what I do during the days. I’m sad to say, my days are pretty boring, but I wasn’t really expecting too much, after all I live it. It’s about what I eat, when I wake up, when I sleep, when I work, and so on. You know, daily life. My friend’s sister said, “oh it’s like Bridget Jones, like with how much you weigh, how much you smoke, and how many shags?” “Yes. I guess so.” I said, “Except, without the smokes or the shags, and not English, so it lacks the cool accents.” What is impressive are not the actions, obviously, but the fact that I have written every day for the past eleven days. Even if it is only read by one person, which so far it is, even if it is the same boring meals everyday, even if I find out I have a sad, sad, monotonous life, I will have written every night for 356 days, and that in itself will be a huge personal accomplishment. It means that I can be dedicated.
I can be dedicated.