I’ve officially lost my mind. I’ve made it almost to 30 with no Ink. But if any ink, I’ve always wanted a number 2 pencil on my hip. YOU KNOW, SO THAT I CAN ALWAYS HAVE A PENCIL ON ME.

BECAUSE I’M A WRITER.

Um. But this has always been sort of a wish and not an actual want, but this week, I found myself thinking about it a lot and actually wanting to do it?

And so, I will be accepting words of encoruagement and / or commands to cease and desist in my inbox all week, and will tally results. By this I of course mean, count the number of times my Mom begs me not to, and pretty much not do it, at all.

Or will I?