So much for doing extra yesterday, you barely got in a few extra. Now you sit here a day before the weekend and the ask is big. Well it’s on you man. It’s your fault it’s come to this so time to buckle up and get some momentum going. The idea of being done with all this by the weekend is leaving my mind with every passing minute. You won’t be able to do it you’ve wasted too much time. It’s your fault. Now it has to bleed into next week. You’ll have to struggle it out some more. Whatever it’s done. Just finish what you have to do today already don’t let that take any longer than it needs to take. It’s almost the end of the year and you’re slowing down when it matters most. Pick it back up man. I know you still have gas left in the tank, it’s time to empty it.
There’s no room for excuses now. Every missed opportunity, every moment wasted, it all adds up to this point. But wallowing in it isn’t going to change anything. The work is still there, staring back at me, daring me to try. So what if it bleeds into next week? So what if the timeline doesn’t go as planned? The point isn’t perfection; the point is finishing. And I will finish. Not because it’s easy, not because I want to, but because I have to.
I can feel the weight of this challenge, heavier now than ever before. But I’ve carried it this far, and I know I can carry it further. The tank isn’t empty yet. There’s something left, buried deep beneath the doubt and frustration. It’s not much, but it’s enough. Enough to finish today. Enough to take one more step. Enough to prove, again and again, that I’m not done yet. That I’m never done until I say I’m done.
This isn’t about yesterday or tomorrow. It’s about today. Right now. Every passing minute is a choice—let it slip away or use it to make progress. I can sit here and let the burden crush me, or I can stand up and push back. And I will push back. Not for anyone else, not for the end goal, but for me. For the promise I made to myself to see this through, no matter what.
When this year is over, I don’t want to remember the excuses. I want to remember the effort. The grit. The moments like this, when it would have been easier to stop, but I didn’t. Because that’s what matters. That’s what will stay with me long after the work is done. The knowledge that I could, and I did.
