I ruined my streak yesterday. I knew that this day was going to come. I technically cheated while I was in Taiwan. I didn’t write one day because of whatever travel bullshit. But I was protected because I scheduled time away. Alas, I ruined it anyway. There is nothing that I can do at this point. I cannot turn back time. I probably wouldn’t if I could because I knew it would happen eventually. I had 164 days. I grew confident writing 750 and pushed myself to write 1,000. I wrote 164,000+ words within the past five months.
Circumstances happen. Things fall out of your control. In my case, I slept in until 2PM and neurotically rehearsed my new joke in the mirror. I used my gorgeous Mitsubishi uni-ball AIR pen as a microphone. Made in Japan, of course. I feel sad. And my feet are cold. I do not feel disappointed though. My writing streak coincided with my sobriety. A relapse in either would suck, but drinking would suck more.
This isn’t the first time I ruined a long streak. It happened several months ago. I was laying down at 1AM when I remembered. It was too late. My world started spinning, probably from all the soju.
This is my thing. My streak keeps me regular. It’s also the inventory of my life. When I reread it, I go back in time and remember what I was thinking, feeling. The majority of it was complaining. Actually, 80% of it was pure garbage and I never read it. But it was my garbage.
750 words, but really a 1,000 words, was more than the $5 a month I had to pay. It was the reason I even created a paypal account. It gave me a sense of responsibility, like having a dog. It’s a good addiction. I came back right away. I’m starting a new streak. I can’t stay sober from writing for too long.