A sense of accomplishment.
That’s what I’m feeling right now.
A real, honest to the flippin’ gods sense of accomplishment.
This hasn’t been the kind of year that’s given me much to feel proud of, to feel, hell, a remote sense of achievement.
Today’s a bit different; it’s high-fived the two challenges I set out for myself this year.
Why only two? Because it’s about all I had the energy, both mental and physical, to muster.
An early afternoon adventure to visit my barber for my first proper beard trim in nearly five months resulted in an excellent and carefully sculpted end-result that’s worth being proud of, and will allow me to continue growing an excellent and thick beard.
This evening, feet firmly and comfortably propped up on my desk, I finished off my thirtieth book for this year. A thirtieth book which I could happily log in Goodreads. That’s five more books than I set out for myself at the start of the year. And nearly as many books as I read per year during my undergraduate days at Concordia University.
“But Ilya, you get paid to read at work, so surely that counts?”
It doesn’t. It’s work, and I’m editing that stuff fast and heavy every damn day.
But it’s not really reading, not to me. It’s work. And it’s not something that’s exactly catalogued by Goodreads – thus making it somewhat difficult to qualify, particularly given that I probably read and edit over two-hundred reports a year.
Tangent aside, it’s an important milestone; indicative of an increase in energy, patience, possibly even time, to read more. Certainly it’s indicative of a desire to find a better work-life balance – a balance that will be made easier once I wrap up in my current role in the end of January 2017.
But still: 30 books in one year!
An important milestone for me.