Last night, while sitting on a hotel bed in the middle of nowhere Ohio, I banged out 500 words about nothing. It wasn't a glorious piece of writing, but it was something. Throughout that piece, I kept thinking about how I consistently wish I would write more often. Before I blew up my previous laptop, I had about a half-dozen uncommitted drafts of pieces that I started writing but never actually went anywhere with. Looking back on the year, I feel as if 2017 has been my worst year for uncompleted projects; or even worse, for unexecuted projects.

Including this post, I'll have added sixteen entries to my website over the course of the year. It's about as many as I assembled last year, but still far short of the one-per-week that I really would have liked. I'm not exactly sure how to fully encapsulate everything that happened in 2017. So much so, that I'm not going to do it. Because, here I am now - almost 24 hours after I started this post, and I have barely covered a few sentences into the second paragraph. Just the thought of reviewing everything that happened is overwhelming — with my family (second child, first wedding anniversary, brother's engagement), my health (running injuries, race failures), my job (unexpected promotion, disappointments with employer), and my home (new condo, organization challenges).

I'm going to sign off for the year - disappointed in all of the projects that I've left in the "I could do that" phase, and never getting to the "I'm doing it" or even better "it's done" phases. Perhaps a renewed focus on less projects but more progress is what is in order for the new year - so I'll go with that.

Happy New Year, dear reader, and may 2018 be filled with less personal disappointment that 2017.