Have you ever had one of those days?
You know the one — that sunrise that comes too early; the sunset that seems to take an eternity. Everything you try, you can’t seem to get right. No conversation ends the way you want it to. Even silence and solitude make you feel guilty, not restored.
There’s too much time to think about what you’re supposed to be doing — and whether or not what you’re trying to do is even pushing you in the right direction.
How do you know if this writing thing is even where you belong? If you haven’t “made it” by now, is it too late? Are you doing something wrong? If you are, what does the “right” thing even look like?
How do you know if this hectic life is meant for you?
The problem is … you don’t.
You don’t know if you’re writing…
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