Day 77 Risk: So…yeah…my dog eat…umm…

I didn’t take any risks yesterday. Go ahead and scoff and judge. But hear me out.

Unless you’ve been living under a rock you know that it’s about 100 degrees in the shade in Chi-Town right now. Add humidity and you have one crabby city.

Yesterday I was too a crab. And busy. So unbelievably busy. So I didn’t even think about/want to think about risking anything.

Let me rephrase that. I probably could have pondered on some great inner truth or revealed something unflattering on this blog, blah, blah, blah boring. But frankly, I was pooped. And crabby. A hot, tired, dehydrated crab who was grumbling like Joe Pesci in Home Alone.

Insert some other excuse you can think of here. Any way you slice it, I didn’t even look for risks yesterday. And I forgot about this blog until about 10 minutes ago. I figured I’d post something for Day 77 because I’m OCD like that and wouldn’t be able to stand seeing my days go from 76 to 78.

So basically, I was a whiny baby yesterday and therefore failed at risking. I figured this day would come. I’m pretty proud of myself for sticking it out a full 76 days without throwing my hands up and pouting, “I don’t wanna!”

Now that I’ve had some water and a full 15 hours out of the heat, hopefully today I’ll be a little more open.


Risky Thoughts

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