I've been working on a streak of writing 500 words a day. I sought to do it so that no matter how little I was able to get done on the writing front, I'd know I got at least something done on the writing front.
I'd kept the streak up for 48 days when today happened. It was one of those days where for a variety of reasons I had problems doing anything remotely productive. I was a mess mentally and emotionally.
I was tempted to not bother. No one else would care. Not doing those words wouldn't spell the end of my writing career. It's just a number.
But after you write 500 words a day for 48 days, it's really hard not to. It's hard to turn your back on.
And that's the value of a streak for me. It's what keeps me writing on a day like today, when I ask myself why I bother. When I don't feel like it. When I think I'm never going to succeed.
Tomorrow will hopefully be brighter. Tomorrow I hope to have my optimistic outlook and confidence back.
But today I wrote 544 words in spite of it all.
That's a good thing.