Sometimes
I sit around writing my own obituary in my head. It’s not that I plan on dying,
or that I’m that old, but I just wonder what my legacy would be. If my family
had to sum up my life to this point, I’m afraid there wouldn’t be a lot to say.
Let’s highlight my first twenty-six years. I hit a game-winning shot against
Nettleton—truly the type of shot you dream about as a kid shooting hoops in the
driveway—to help Paragould High School make it to the state tournament in 2004
(this is the highlight of my short and mostly uneventful athletic career); I
won the Citizenship Award my senior year, which my mother says is way more
important than any academic or athletic award; I wrote for the Paragould Daily Press for four years,
and I still have people say they miss my column (but you guys can quit lying to
me already); I married a girl who is way more intelligent and athletic than I
ever dreamed of being; I graduated from college, twice; and I have an adorable
puppy that takes up all of my free time wanting to play fetch or sleep on my
lap.
That’s
it.
Look,
I’m not trying to complain. The other night Kasa asked me to name the worst
thing that’s ever happened to me. Kasa immediately recalls watching her brother
get hit by a car. Me? I thought and thought and thought, but I couldn’t come up
with anything. I’ve never suffered a serious injury (I’ve never even broken a
bone), had someone close to me die, or been devastated by failure. I realize
that compared to most people, my life has been perfect. Most of that is due to
a strong support system and has little to do with my talents.
I
try not to take these blessings for granted. I won’t go back through my spiel
about mediocrity and being content with my life, so I’ll get right to the
point. I set a few goals for myself at the beginning of this year. I want to leave behind something that those around me can be proud of. If you know
me, you know that I am terrible at lists, goals, planning, etc. However, as I
get older, I find that actually seeing my goals and having a plan can make a
difference. It’s probably all in my head, but that’s okay.
I
set three goals for myself to achieve by March 25, which is my 27th
birthday: start an online website/journal that features quality writing, live a
healthier life (this is more a personal thing, not something for other people to be proud of), and finish writing a book. Should you care? Probably not.
However, just knowing that one person may read this and ask me how things are
coming one day in the future helps to motivate me. I need accountability.
So
far, I’ve been pleased with my progress.
If
all goes as planned—thanks to some help from a few great people who are willing
to listen to my craziness—the website should be up and running in the next
couple of weeks. Will people care? Probably not, but I’m going to do it
anyway. (If you have a second, go check it out: Dribbling Ink)
On
Saturday, I finished the first month of Insanity. Luckily I’ve done the program
before, so my body didn’t feel like mush all of January. During the second
month, I plan on changing it up and adding a few things. I still don’t eat like
I need to—I can’t help but devour carbs and sugar and turn my nose up at fruits
and vegetables—but I am making progress.
My
final goal is where I’m falling behind. I have a few projects started, a couple
of ideas for new projects in my head, and a lot of doubt about my writing. All
of this has made me hesitant, which in turn lead to me writing very little
during January. Needless to say, I have a lot of ground to make up in February,
but I am optimistic. Step one: writing another mediocre blog about my mediocre life.
Check.
Here’s
to more progress in February.
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