I have a friend, Bobby, who is a hell of a writer and productive beyond all human reason. In addition to a post per day yearblog for a major RPG corporation, he is writing his own story blog and working on several other major projects. In other words, this man is grinding like a stripper on the pole. He is writing and building his creativity and mastering his craft and surging towards his Gladwellian 10,000 hours.
In the past, things just had a way of working out for me. The past is catching up at last. It isn’t supposed to be a function of old age that your ability to float through life diminishes is it? I have no problem with hard work. I have the stomach for it, if not the time.
I thought–maybe sometimes still think–that my creativity has left me, that I fled that one great story I am meant to write. It is hard to be yourself when you are judged all the time, even if the judging is self-directed.
Some Thoughts:
- Good play can ignite the soul. I had a good game today. I made a few interceptions and swatted a few passes from the LB position. It represented a total reversal from the last game a few weeks ago and coincides with the weight reduction. I have a long way to go. I ended up around 206 today after an explosive tip off the wagon into a giant cheesecake. I figured a good game could make up for it and it did–mentally. I feel like I really have a shot at dropping the next 10-16 before May.