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I woke up this morning and realized (for maybe the 100th time) that …

I can’t do this shit no more. This blogging thing. Writing on the internet as an escape from reality, using this site as a brief refuge from the humdrum routine of data entry and solicitor payroll. Because it’s getting harder and harder for me to hop on that train and go to my 9-5, knowing I should be and could be hopping out of bed in a beautiful but humble apartment, hitting the gym, then making breakfast (don’t forget the pot of Jamaican coffee!), and then strolling to my 11-3 that is my laptop in the living room.

It’s fucking bullshit.

I’m tired of typing in notes on my phone whenever I get a new idea for a post and it staying there. I’m tired of getting ahead of myself and thinking of the perfect dedication, and illustration for the dust jacket of my non-existent book. I’m tired of the flattering comments, tear-jerking emails, and “#FF my favorite blogger!” tweets … and not doing a single thing about it.

“This time, I made up my mind.

This time, I’m back on my grind.

I know there’s things in my life,

That I’m a let go of starting tonight …”

I can’t live my life this way.

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