Yes, I'm still thinking about my commitment to writing every day. Oh, and by the way, happy December, everyone! Can you believe that 2008 has pretty much passed us by? I never can. I always make it to December a little startled and in disbelief, as if all other eleven months were somehow just a dress rehearsal and, oh boy, here comes December to mess with our heads and knock us off center.
And then, there is never a performance, but we get to do another eleven dress rehearsals all over again.
I blame the mad adrenaline rush on the mostly-Sagittarian energy whizzing by like will-o'-the-wisp and making us hallucinate about this being in any way a productive time of year. But this is not to say that I personally dislike it, though I have in the past. I think that the dizzying speed with which we're supposed to close up the year and start writing a new date is partly to blame for people's crankiness, along with the consumerist evils (of which we all partake whilst kicking and screaming, naturally), and the cold in the Northern Hemisphere.
But yes. November is done, and so I put up my nifty little badge and marvel in its monochrome simplicity. And yet, I am still tying to pin down this itching I cannot seem to scratch.
Maybe it's because I failed at the novel.
Maybe it's that will-o'-the-wisp and those restless spirits that flit about this time of year, whispering in my ear and asking me what I want to do with my writing, and what I want to do with my life.
Or maybe, just maybe, it's just gas and I should let it pass.
Once again, happy December, lovely blogland. May this season not ruffle your feathers too much.