The other day I was on the phone with a friend who was complaining of boy troubles (I should probably say "man" instead, given that he's in his 40s, but he hasn't proven himself in that regard so far). Neither one of us could come up with a definitive answer regarding whether she should see him again or not. You see, my brain says that when someone goes in and out of your life more times than you wear the same pair of shoes, you ought to just toss out that person permanently and get on with it.
There's another part of me, however -- and I don't know which silly organ is the culprit here -- which whispers, "If you really must see this person again, and won't rest until you do, then go ahead and do it until you're finally too exhausted to ever do it again." Listening to this muddle-headed muttering always gets me in trouble, as you can imagine. And what I said to her next might explain my astonishing lack of prudence and common sense: "Well, if seeing him again backfires on you, at least you can write about it one day."
There, that just about sums up the reason for most of the bad decisions I've made in my life. Nothing's ever wasted, not even regret.
I realize I haven't been writing regularly these past couple of years. It's not because life has been uneventful or that I have had nothing to write about. Far from that. I suppose the simple though overstated truth is that I've been lazy, which can explain why I don't exercise regularly or eat veggies daily as well.
Thus, for the month of July I'm tackling my own 30-in-30: 30 blog posts in 30 days. I've decided to ignore the slightly inconvenient truth that July has 31 days, and simply give in to sloth for one of them (hopefully, sometime later in the month rather than earlier). Maybe this might be the start of all good habits from here on, although what I'm really hoping for that if I persevere and complete this I can finally call myself a writer, i.e. one who writes.
Postscript. In case you were wondering what happened to my friend, she decided to spare herself any potential headaches and heartaches and has resolved not to see the boy. Good decision, I say, although I suspect she believed that giving him another go just so she'd have something to write about wasn't worth all the aggravation. Have I mentioned she doesn't have a blog?
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