I’m meant to be writing at this moment. What I mean is, I’m meant to be writing something else at this moment. The document I’m meant to be writing is, of course, open in another program on my computer and is patiently awaiting my attention. Yet here I am plonking down senseless sentiments in this paragraph because it’s easier to do than to work on anything particularly meaningful. I am grateful for the distraction.

She reached her goal, exhausted. Even more chilling to her was that the euphoria that she thought she’d feel upon reaching it wasn’t there. Something wasn’t right. Was this the only feeling she’d have for over five years of hard work?

It seemed like it should have been so simple. There was nothing inherently difficult with getting the project done. It was simple and straightforward enough that even a child should have been able to complete it on time, but that wasn’t the case. The deadline had arrived and the project remained unfinished.