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So, you tried.

It didn’t last long, but you tried. You gave it your very best effort, of course, just not for very long.

It’s exhausting making promises to yourself and then actually expecting them to be kept. Who do you think you are, demanding this kind of consistency from yourself? You’ve got a life, a job, a desperate thirst for the current week to be over so you can waste two full days on not actually doing any of the things you say you want to. You don’t have the kind of time that sticking to the plan would require. It’s just not in your budget.

That’s what you tell yourself, anyway.

The thing about self-delusion is that you ultimately can’t hide the truth from your own self. You always know what you’re up to. You’re the one who’s up to it. It’s like those “productivity hacks” that I could never fully understand. You open an app on your laptop and it blocks all your network connections to things like Facebook and Twitter and Steam. It forces you to get your work done without distraction. Maybe it even makes you set a password so that no malcontent can come and set you free from your productivity prison. Except, of course, yourself. As much as you play into the kayfabe of it, you know the password and are perfectly capable of typing it into that little input box. Hell, if it tries to be clever and stop you, you can just force quit the damn thing. You’re the warden of this jail, which makes it extremely easy to spring yourself.

You know—not even deep down, it’s basically right there on the surface—that you’re making excuses to an audience of one. You’re just trying to delude yourself into believing that it’s all well and fine that you made it barely one twelfth of the way to your goal before you gave up entirely.

But you know that it’s not fine.

You started this for a reason. You actually enjoy doing it, and you wanted to get better at it through the only way anyone ever does—practice. Lots and lots of practice. 365 days of it, actually. You figured that you’d done other one-a-day type commitments before, so why not apply all that time it to something that you really wanted to develop? But you let your own self-delusional excuses and rationalizations gnaw away at it until there was none left.

Now, here’s the thing. Those reasons why you decided to try this in the first place are still as real and valid as they were a year ago. You still want to do it. And, even better, you’re now one year and one total failure wiser now. You get a whole new year to start over, but this time knowing exactly what would cause you to fail.

You can’t hide what you know from yourself. You know why you gave up. But that means that this year you know how to avoid it.


A weird problem gets progressively weirder.
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An introduction to yourself, yet again.


A morning gets off to a rocky start.