Stayed up until the sun rose hashing out the details of my short story, which is not a piece of fiction at all. I guess I will chock it up to being sick and feeling experimental, it did not work out, I have never felt more frustrated about a piece of writing. I appreciate this frustration, maybe it will make me work harder from now on. Lately I've been realizing I don't really put enough effort into anything, and I want to change that.
Things have been going smoothly, exceptionally, I am finding my niche, my place. I worry that it is going to my head, this fitting in so comfortably. I don't want to fizzle out at a young age, I don't want to start assuming I have got it all figured out, I don't ever, ever want to stop learning.
There are lots of things a brewing, or so it seems, and I am feeling excited/timid and completely unsure, and for the last few months I have felt so sure about everything, this slight uneasiness is both a comfort and a worry. A real test to my new zenitude.
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