Streaking — back in the ’70s it meant taking off all your clothes and running around in public buck naked. Don’t ask me why. But I’m guessing there was usually liquor involved.
My own version of streaking, as regular readers know by now, involves only metaphorical nakedness. Yesterday marked Day 534 of my writing streak.
But I’m not the only streaker around here. One of my writers has got a pretty good one going. On our group call the other day she mentioned she’d been writing every day. I asked if she’s been keeping track and she said yes.
So, I asked, how long is your streak?
I would have shouted it from the rafters, but Dr. Jeffifer Shoemaker said it like it’s no big deal. Maybe she doesn’t have rafters. Well, she’s gonna reach 200 in a couple of weeks; maybe she can build some.
Streaking and celebrating
Apparently I’ve made my point about the benefits of writing daily. Now I guess I need to talk about celebrating.
Even an 8-day writing streak can be cause for celebration. Heck, if writing daily is a new habit for you, celebrate every freaking day. Celebrate every day until you get tired of it, and then find a new way to reward yourself.
Because it’s not every day we form a new habit—not every day we even try. So if you’re trying, you deserve to celebrate.
Just—if you’re doing it in public—try to keep your clothes on.
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