Here's my chart:
Yeah, I missed two days in a row. I know! I can't really believe it either. The worst of all was that I just plain forgot to write those days. I had no other excuse. The first day was a Friday. I was really tired. It had been a long week. I'd actually gotten together with Rish twice this week, both Monday and Wednesday, and we'd stayed up till about 2:00 AM on both of those nights. The the Tuesday in between that, I'd spent the whole evening meeting with our real estate agent, who looked over our house, then had a sign a bunch of papers to get the process of selling our house in gear. Then Thursday, my in-laws arrived from Canada, so we spent the evening talking with them.
Come Friday, I was tired, and I really wanted to get a decent night's sleep. So, when I took my son up to bed for the night, I just fell asleep at his side, happily, completely oblivious about the fact that I hadn't written at all.
Then, the next day was the Saturday before Easter. There was an Easter egg hunt for the city that we always go to. Then a family get-together that included another egg hunt. We stayed at my sister's house for a long time afterward because someone was coming to look at our house at 6:00 PM, and we didn't want to be under their feet when they came. Then, when we got home, I spent the evening, well into the early morning putting together the Easter basket treasure hunts that I do for my kids for Easter.
It wasn't until morning came along, and my wife said, "have you been writing this week?" when I realized that I in fact had not. I'd completely forgotten that I did such a thing. I'd done it without fail for more than sixty days in a row, but somehow it had completely slipped my mind. How the hell does that happen? That's crazy!
Well, I did get back to it. I've written every day since Saturday. I was going to try to write 3,000 words on Sunday to make up for the days I'd missed, but I just couldn't find the time or the energy to do so. Maybe I'll manage to do that another day this month or something, but if I never do, I'll be fine with it. I'm back at it. I remember that I do it again, so that's what matters, I suppose. I'm a writer, because a writer writes every day.