Tuesday’s here, and all is well with…nothing, actually.

Tuesday, Tuesday, Tuesday. I need to bring a new CD with me to work so I can load it in my car and not have to listen to news about hunters and lead shot and Bald Eagles with lead poisoning this morning.

Yesterday I wrote 147 fiction words, 398 total. My goal for today is to write more fiction than I blog. Twice as much, even. Which means I ought to get working on the 2nd blog post early, so I know what my goal is to beat.

Also, remembering the goal would be a good thing as well. Even though I’m still keeping up with my #BuJo, it’s currently just a routine that’s keeping me sane. It’s drawing in pretty pages, and then not actually doing anything once those pages are established. The next morning I cross out the things that it would have been very difficult not to accomplish and so I probably shouldn’t have written them down in the first place (write, blog, journal, survive was yesterday’s list).

But that’s OK. Because when I don’t keep up with that bare minimum, I feel worse. It’s not the standard I’d like to keep, but keeping this tiny bit going is keeping me just a fraction closer to sane and away from completely losing my shit.

Today I need to add “make a lunch” to my list.