Monday That Feels Like a Sunday (Day Off)
As I write this post, the Sun is shining gloriously across the sky, peeking through the blinds in
my living room window as I hear the intro to Mountain's "Because You Are My Friend."
The past week saw my ill with a cold that left me with just enough strength to work through
the week. Friday being the first day that I finally began to feel like myself. And I felt happy as I had
two poetry workshops planned: one for each day. Alas, I didn't go Saturday because my body was
telling me to take a nap. When the alarm set for me to get up and go, my body was like,
And since I learned to listen to my body when it speaks, I didn't go. Sunday, I didn't go because mid kid called me up asking if I wanted to go to the stores with her. As my three daughters and I don't see each other often, I gladly take whatever opportunity to see them. And I have no qualms about it; I can really write anytime, and those workshops will roll around next month. So, I've behind in writing, posting, submitting and collecting my writing rejections (haha.) I say that because I've read an article where the author aimed for one hundred rejections a year.
My jaw dropped the first time I read it as I initially couldn't bear the thought of that many rejections looming above my consciousness. But as I was also intrigued, decided to try it. Automatically changing the habit of how often I'd submit. What I before did once a week, I'm now doing everyday or every other day. In January, I did 16 submissions. The number of acceptances (if any) I'm not counting because I save that number for the end of the year. And now, when I get a rejection, it doesn't irk me like it used to. I now see it as something as another check on the list. In other words, it's good in its own weird way. Maybe I'll be lucky and it'll stay feeling weird. Maybe, probably I'll get more than one hundred. Which reminds me; time to put in my submission for the day.
Twitter: @shontayluna & @shontay_luna
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