
I have been meaning to write. I mean it. I really did. If only somehow, I could have transcribed the words from my brain to the blog, life would be easy. No wait, on second thought. That’s probably not a good idea. I am coming to the end of a workday, and somehow it seemed fitting to close out the business hours with something on my personal to do list. Something that I can say I am truly passionate about. Before you say self-pity, I meant the new convictions in my life.
I recently turned 40, and let’s just say it hasn’t been easy to NOT feel sorry for myself. I want to read more, work out more, write more, travel more, do all the things I have been promising myself now since I was 18. Then it hits me. Why not start now? What is really stopping me? So here I go again (Sorry family and loved ones). Writing, that is. But there will be a change. That much I promise you. I am going back to my roots (no I am not going to write in Punjabi). I will become a columnist. What will I write about, you ask? (at least, I hope your asking) The life around me, my new passions, things that piss me off. Perhaps it will be much ado about nothing, but I will be writing, moving the fingers across the keyboard, keeping the writer in me on life support, because I know HE is dying.
So here goes to the new me. Wish me luck!
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