missed two days of blogging
I had managed to stay consistent with blogging every other day through July so far, that was until this week, when I didn't realise my 'other day' was yesterday. Shit.
I thought about it, felt a bit guilty about it and then realised that nobody gives a fuck. How liberating. I want to write consistently, but I get to pick the rules, I get to choose what consistency means to me and how I want to apply that.
Whether that's once a day, every other week or once a year.
And yes, I feel guilty that I didn't hit what I wanted to do, but I genuinely forgot. Working full-time, trying to stay healthy and getting everything sorted before my holiday gives my tiny mind more than enough to focus on.
I won't be writing at all next week, because I'll be living my life. Refilling the well of my creativity so I can come back and release those juices all over the page (oo, er, misses).
Freedom is something you take and I'm choosing to take it now and let go of my guilt over something as mundane as how often I'm posting to a blog that a handful of people will stumble on and then inevitably move on with their day.
And that's okay.
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