Being ambitious never led to anything good for me.
First, it was exam anxiety. Next, it was IBS. Since then, I’ve lowered my expectations of myself and sought to live a quieter, unstated life. When the “I should do something about myself” part of me emerged again earlier last month and because I was in a hyperactive state of mind, I promised my readers I would do a daily post for a week. We all know how that turned out.
Here are my excuses for not having met the goals I’d set up for myself.
- My laptop crashed. Yes, it died with essay deadlines looming in the horizon.
- I stubbed my toe on the side of the pavement and lost some blood (it was the second-highest volume of blood spilled in my entire life) along with various good feelings about myself.
School’s let up now that it’s recess week and I’ve completed 2/3 presentations. I’m also tapping away on a brand new laptop (RIP, Hades. You’ll always be my first love) and my toe looks almost as good as new now, save for a hole at the side of my nail that looks like it might never regenerate.
It was terrible. But it could have been worse. Not achieving what I’d set out to do tore me up pretty badly, but I guess it’s a lesson for me to learn not to release tentative plans to the world without first ensuring that I had something to fall back on.