I Failed; Fuck It

As most of you are probably aware, November is National Blog Post Month.  The challenge of NaBloPoMo is to add a post every single day of the month, with no exceptions for weekends or holidays.   I began the challenge with a bang, determined that I could easily complete a blog post a day, mocking other bloggers  when I visited their sites and noticed they had missed a few days.  You should not be surprised that I mocked others given my incurable Bitch Tourette’s Syndrome. 

I convinced myself that I would succeed where others had failed.  However, this meant that some of my posts would be far from my proudest writing. My weakest post probably came on Thanksgiving Day – a terrible, quite poorly thought out acrostic poem (I knew it, so I'm not mad if you thought it too).  While the post lacked pizazz, I still managed to complete the challenge despite being in the company of excessive amounts of in-laws.

Then I missed the last two days.   I had wondered how other bloggers had failed to write a post a day given there’s no rule that says every post must contain high quality writing.  Then it happened to me.  I could provide you with a number of excuses – I was tired and I was out of town.  I really don’t like the keyboard at my in-laws (true story), and I just wasn’t comfortable typing in the provided space.  I need time to myself, and I could never find that time to cozy away in a corner and get creative. Regardless of the reason, I failed.

I failed the challenge I had accepted.  I could beat myself up over this and add it to a long list of other failures in my life, goals I have failed to meet.  I still bite my damn fingernails and I haven’t lost the extra weight I gained over eight years ago, although I have sporadically attempted to do so. I will give up diet soda for months at a time, and then fall right back into that addiction.  But I decided to engage in a different approach to my failings.  I decided to just say “fuck it.”  Fuck it.  So what?  Fuck it and keep on truckin’, my friend.

I have to evaluate the consequences of the failings in my life.  I bite my nails, so I have ugly nails.  What else? I can’t think of any other catastrophic outcome to this failure.  My blog contained no new posts the past two days.  What are the consequences of this?  I don’t know that there really are any, expect some bitches may have likewise judged me on the absence of posts. I failed a challenge, but I’m still a good mother, I still contribute to my community, I still enjoyed a wonderful weekend with my friends and family.  Therefore, so what?  I stand strong, pick up from where I left up, and keep movin’ on.  Life is too short to tear down and beat up my own self-confidence.

The next time you find yourself condemning yourself for some minor failing, consider the actual impact of your action or inaction.  Was anyone severely injured or scarred by your failing?  Are you still living and breathing?  Do you still have all your teeth and have not become the victim of inexplicable internal bleeding?  If so, I say you should simply declare fuck it, shake that shit off, and move along.  I failed.  So what? Fuck it, my friends, fuck it.