Day 239. I have a little over four months left before my year is up, but I don’t know if I’m going to make it. I don’t know if I want to make it. This blog satisfied its purpose very early on, and once I got over her a few months ago, I lost the reason for this blog’s existence. I tried to make it into something else, but each of those ideas failed. Now I’m lost.
My worst entries are those that I force, and in hindsight, I like that I forced myself to keep writing because that’s what I have to do, to write, regardless of whether or not I feel like it and regardless if what I write is shittier than shit. I have to write. That’s both the burden and the life I’ve chosen because that’s who I am and who I want to be. Even if I have nothing to say, I have to keep writing. Oh god I hate that sometimes, but I just have to do it.
I’m really hoping this fire season is prolific because I need a break from my life. I need to finish my novel before I go out so I do not feel burdened by it, and I can just focus on what’s right in front of me. I’m buying multiple battery packs so I can still take pictures and write on my phone while I’m there, but that’s more creatively necessary than something I feel forced to do. It’ll be nice to not worry about what I’m going to eat or how I’m going to spend my days. That’ll be decided for me. All I have to do is hike, fight a fire, eat, hike, fight some more, and head back to camp. Best of all, I’ll get to spend time with a crew full of awesome people. C’mon wilderness: catch fire so I can have something to do.
In other news, I restarted my Max: 30 workouts today, and it was a nice change of pace from what I’ve been doing for the past two months. I think my neighbors hate me since I work out almost every day, and I work out hard, so I’m sure I’m shaking the whole building every time I do. It’s like a consistent earthquake for them, and that sucks for them. They haven’t complained so I’m not stopping. I didn’t like how my body felt today after drinking yesterday. I don’t miss that part from drinking. I like the way I feel while I’m drinking, just none of the after effects. I thought about buying a bottle of wine today, but I decided against it. I don’t know why yet. Out of habit, probably. Maybe I’ll change my mind soon.
I remember when I first started this blog, I limited myself to at least 400 words. I since changed that to 500, but I think I might change it back to 400. I didn’t want to be restricted, and that’s how I was able to ensure I wrote during that first week. Since, though? Shit. I don’t know. I’m floating right now, not sure what to do or where I’m going. It’s awful.