Except not an actual gym. I don’t like gyms.

No, what I’m trying to get it in an admittedly clumsy way is what happens when you had a routine, and it was working well, and then you fell off that routine for whatever reason. In my case, probably a few zillion little virus-y reasons. I’ve had the flu this week. It came out of nowhere, with a fever and aches, then quickly progressed to the hacking cough/sandpaper-sore throat stage. I’m nicely into the mucous bomb phase of things now, so I know I’m getting better. My brain still feels as if it’s wrapped in paper towel, not quite connecting with anything, and I’ve got enough energy to function for a couple of hours at a time, but then I turn into floppy, slimy seaweed until I recharge.

And I fell off my write-every-day wagon. Once or twice in there, I tried, but I gave it up as a bad job.

When I started this resolution back on January 1, I knew there was a danger in it. I made myself a promise that if I missed a day, for whatever reason, that wasn’t going to be a reason to not try again. Just like (in theory) skipping the gym for a week or two is not ideal, but is made worse if you let that failure keep you from going back. In theory. Okay, fine, been there.

But like I said, I don’t like gyms. I do love writing. So tomorrow, I’m back to it.