Yesterday is the first day in over a year where I didn’t write. I came home, ate dinner, and crashed out by about 7 pm. I didn’t wake up enough to write until 10 am this morning, so at that point, I decided not to do it. I was so tired from this week and trying to work with a virus. I slept hard. I didn’t even take my medicine last night before bed because I didn’t realize I was going to bed when I did – but I just crashed.

It felt weird not to write though. I thought about it off and on today. I didn’t feel guilty, exactly, but just kind of strange, like something was off. I’m still thinking about that weirdness – was it due to habit being broken? Was it because I didn’t get my ideas, however inane, out of my head and they were sitting in there? I don’t really know.

It didn’t make me stop writing all together. I like the writing. It helps me sort my thoughts. It’s kind of nice for it to feel less like a chore, like I can skip a day now because I made it a full year. I don’t “have” to write, I just write. Hmm. Now I’m wondering if I’m going to have to be more picky or careful about my content. Before, I gave myself a lot of leeway with writing terribly because I had to write every day because that was my challenge. Now, does that mean I have to be more picky about what I put out there? And if so, will that keep me from actually just writing? This is weird.

The sleep helped a lot. I felt better today, even though I still have the virus (the basic stuff: headaches, sniffles, a little coughing). I was too tired to write last night, so I didn’t. That’s okay.