92 Days: how long it takes to settle into life. Three months of moving, unpacking, and reinstating normalcy. My curtains are (mostly) hung and my clothes finally have a place to stay (that is not the floor in heaps). Our dog loves our (rented) backyard, and Boyfriend passed his boards. This year has started out in a whirlwind, a crazy tornado of consumed time.
So much has happened, I hesitate to try to cover it all in one post, which is why I am not.
In the past 92 days, I have worked, visited family and friends, read a bit and ignored my writing. The ways we spend our time reflect what is important to us at any given time, and my writing became the lowest rung on my ladder. This is what I do every year, particularly around the holidays. Good intentions fall away to bad habits.
In the spirit of the New Year (albeit a little late), I am aiming to reclaim my time and write more, to become less of an enthusiast and more of a writer while still managing to make time for everything else.
Cheers to the New Year!
