So. About those goals.

 I set some goals for this year.  And then I almost immediately regretted it.  And since then I've been ignoring them entirely.  

It's a bit flummoxing.  I mean, I absolutely rocked my goals last year, finishing 20 goals by the end of June.  And if ever there was a year with a good excuse to give up on goals, it was 2020.  But I didn't give up last year.  And I did give up this year.  Or actually, I didn't give up, I just avoided, which is probably worse.  I am not willing to admit to myself that I made a mistake, so I'm just not.  Not anything.

It is actually not at all confusing or perplexing, y'all.  I am spent.  All of the emotionally energy required to make it through the past 15 months, supporting and loving my family well, has emptied me, and I got nothing left*.  There is no more emotional energy to care about completing goals that I don't actually want to complete.

Anyway, it's not all bad news.  Or even any bad news.  Just news, I guess.  I may or may not complete any or all of my original 2021 goals, and that's ok.  I have given myself permission to not stress about it (which does not mean that I am, in fact, not stressing about it, but whatever.  Baby steps).

Well.  I'm glad I've got that off my chest and out there into the universe.  So how about an update**?

You guys.  I am so close to achieving a Superstar or better rating on all of the Extreme versions in Just Dance 2019 and 2020.  I am one song away.  What?  Who am I?  A superstar, that's who. (That was ironic.  There is no way on this earth that I would actually call myself a superstar.  Ha.  The very thought is preposterous.) 

I'll keep you posted.

Or not.

*****

* Are you as annoyed as I am by how dramatic I'm making it sound?  I mean, it feels dramatic, but also the human system tends toward homeostasis, which means we can become accustomed to anything, so it's not actually all that dramatic.  It just is.

** I believe what you just experienced is known colloquially as whiplash.