Yesterday afternoon I wrote a post while at work.
I put the finishing touches on it and left it sitting in a Google Doc while I finished my workday, not wanting to publish and find a cover image while still at work.
I was proud of myself. I finished a post before 11pm…when I usually write my blog post.
This morning, I woke up and went along with my day. Things were looking up. I was ready for an exciting weekend away from the city.
I called my parents. My mom, my most avid (and probably only) reader asks “I’m glad you called since you didn’t publish a post last night.”
Assuming she simply hadn’t seen it, I asked her if she didn’t read it.
“I didn’t see it.” She said.
Now, mentally freaking out, I begin to wonder if I didn’t publish a post…starting to remember what happened.
After our call, I frantically look at my blog and see that the last post was from two nights ago and indeed did not include the post I had written the day before.
My heart sank. I knew that I had continued the streak concerning writing, but I had failed the publishing challenge. I had persevered through this even when I was off the grid for three days by scheduling blog posts beforehand. And now, not even off the grid, having written a post, the streak was broken.
272 days in, I failed my publishing streak.
I hate it. The competitive nature in me almost feels sick.
However, because I have continued the writing streak, it was not a complete failure. I plan to continue writing every day. I am being honest with myself in that I failed the publishing daily challenge, but I am also being honest with myself that I have continued my writing streak, which in reality, is what is most important to me.
The count continues from here. I am counting this as 274, and when I post the post I planned for yesterday right after this, I plan to count it as 273.
I’m annoyed, but ready to continue persevering through setbacks,