Today is my birthday and writing today felt actually extra good. It was like I was giving myself a present by doing the work, writing, looking for the story. Taking a break is easy, one day wouldn’t hurt probably, but I also know how easily one day turns into two, then three and before you know it a week has passed.
I promised myself to write everyday, even if it only be one sentence. I need to keep this promise. It’s important part of designing my life, of working towards my dreams. If I stop now, I’m not sure I will ever believe myself again.
If I can’t do this, how much do I really want it?
The circumstances are perfect, my depression finally lifted, I’m feeling myself again. I have my own room, but if I want I can work in the garden, like today. There’ll be no better time to do this. There’ll be no better time to start building this life, to become the person I want to be.
Happy birthday to me.
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