you know, i try not to put pressure on myself about much of anything. i don't have a job to make myself stressed over whether i'm doing it well or not. i don't have relationship stress because i'm one of those super-duperlicious people who gets along with everybody around her just by being herself. i'm there for everybody, and i know i'm doing what i can for my whole wonderful polyfam. i to-o-o-tally stay away from politics and world events every single bit as much as i can.
but dang, i just can't shake this habit of thinking i need to keep up my streak of blogging more this year than i did last year. jeepers, i screwed myself by blogging so much last year! ("hi, claire from 2026! i'm claire from 2025! would you mind bending over so i can give it to you hard with these 79 entries? thanks!")
i mean, i keep saying there's no reason to push myself ... and then i turn around and think, well, all you've got to do to hit 80 entries is average 6.7 posts a month, you know.
6.7!
i've already done a month with 5 blog entries, a month with 7 entries, and another month with 5 entries, so how hard would it be to get my average up to 6.7? but then on the other hand, if i just keep writing 5 entries a month and then slack by an entry two months, i'll still hit 60 posts for the year, and what's so bad about 60?
not only that, but if i keep going with this 5, 7, 5 pattern all year, that'll be 68, and hot damn-kablam if i couldn't throw one extra in there somewhere to make it 69, which honestly is a much better number than 79.
the point is, keep at it, and whatever happens, it will more or less be all right, okay?
yikes! i didn't plan it, but the heck if this didn't turn out to be a post about somebody i know turning semi-old this year.
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