So today I was driving through the country on my way back from my fourth interview in two months, passing up pickup trucks and cows and the Aggie Barn, and the thought hit me that I haven’t written, really written, in a long time.
Sure, I’ve put down some poetry, and a few blog posts, but I used to write so much prose; I used to think through things more deeply than I do. And I’m not really sure what happened. I’ve let myself go. And that thought hit me, and it made me sad. There’s so much I could and should be doing with my brain instead of watching TV and reading Twitter all the time; I’ve become a passive consumer instead of an active participant with the world, and I hate that.
So here’s to writing, and reading, and thinking, and practicing redemption. I know I’ve said this before. And I’ll probably say it again. Multiple times. But a step forward is a step forward, and I’ll take it.