It was a mistake to let myself off the hook from posting every day on this blog.

I got lazy, and the excuses set it. If I was tiiiiiiiiiiiired, it was okay not to write a post. We went from “a challenging goal” to “scraping by with the bare minimum.”

With the stumble in post frequency, the need for perfectionism came back. I’m back to holding on to ideas, hoarding words, rehearsing blog posts in my head that don’t ever come to fruition.

In March, I did a crapton of writing for myself. Journalling, yes, but also the beginnings (hopefully) of a book. In April, I got distracted by a contest and a new possible future. Now, in May, my mental cobwebs are growing again.

It’s crazy to me that there is *that* much of a difference between writing for myself and writing in public, but here we are.