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There are things I want to do differently in my life. I want to take better care of my health. I want to quit smoking, better my diet, and maybe–god willing–even find some way to exercise that I don’t utterly despise. I want to get a haircut. I want to spend a little more time sitting quietly with myself. I want to write. I want to be more active in my community, spend more time meeting interesting people and laughing with them. I want to play a little more. Worry a little less. Expand. Invite more joy into my life. More love. More hope.

I was a grumpy little bastard for most of today. I have these documents to do for work that are new to me and are such a fucking struggle for me to get through. It’s physically uncomfortable for me to sit at my desk working on them, and though they were much of how I spent my almost 10 hour day at work, I didn’t actually complete a single one. I don’t know what is making it so hard for me. If it’s my perfectionism. If the amount I just don’t know yet is paralyzing me. If I’m afraid of doing it wrong. But I know that it can not keep taking me so long and I can not continue to have it be such a painful process.

I came home tonight, smoked cigarettes, watched TV, and polished off half a bag of holiday peanut M&M’s, which I believe negates the salad I made for dinner. I honestly could not have done anything else. Not tonight.

So how do I get from where I am to where I want to be? When do I start to make different choices?

I honestly don’t know.