No one likes deadlines, but I find that having them forces me to get things done. My self-imposed deadline of posting an entry a week is one of those deadlines that, admittedly, forces me to write.
I started keeping a journal when I was in 7th grade. Back then, I had a massive crush on a girl and I never really had close friends who I could tell my secret to; I was very much a loner until high school, and I never was comfortable relating to my peers, for many reasons. So, I poured out my thoughts and my feelings onto paper as a substitute to telling someone else about it. Pubescent infatuation aside, I did keep writing fairly often on my journal as I got into high school and my early years of college. Sure, it wasn’t much of a daily thing, I admit: there were stretches of days, even weeks sometimes, when I didn’t put anything down in my journals because I thought nothing ever happened that was worth putting down— but I do know that I at least tried to write down my thoughts every night. I just wasn’t consistent.
Sometime in college however, I stopped writing in my journals as often. The stretches between entries grew into months, and in one point a whole year had passed between entries.
I had never formed a reliable habit of writing down my thoughts on my journals because I never imposed structure on it: I never told myself that I had to write something, anything, at least once a night. I never put pressure on myself to write.
So, having put myself on this deadline of publishing a blog post a week is really, really difficult for me, but having a self-imposed deadline is making me think of ways to structure my work week around it: knowing that I need put a post out by Friday is making me think real hard on what to write.
Which is to say in 300 or so words: I failed this week, but I promise I’ll do better next week. Hopefully.