There are things I would like to accomplish. I have some goals for this, my 30th year of life. And there are particular steps I have to take to make these things happen. Like run a certain amount of miles each week. Like write a certain amount of words each day. Like learn to shake off rejection and keep submitting my writing for publication.

I know that the payoff, in the end, of achieving these goals will be big. Beyond big. Glorious, even. But in the short term, there's a lot of sticking-to-it. A lot of discipline. A lot of getting out of bed early when I'd rather sleep, writing when I'd really rather be watching TV or dinking around on Facebook.

I know I'll be happier with myself if, a year from now, I can look back and say that I did my best to meet my goals. A lot happier than if I have to look back and say, "Well, I got busy, and I got tired, and I got bored, and I just never really got around to it." It's reminding myself of that, on a daily basis, that gets hard.