This selfie was meant to connote steely determination on New Year’s Day, although now it’s clear I resembled a hooligan. Never mind, I need to get back to talking to myself about core aspects of life in the second year of the 20s. Firstly, let me exhibit a little self pride by saying I worked as hard as I could on real writing over January. I had a go. Did I achieve 7-8 hours of work a day? No, but I managed 6 hours/day, a shortfall of only 15%, which isn’t bad, as there were some life imposts. Did I tilt writing work towards book drafting? Yes: I aimed for nearly 6 hours/day and managed nearly 5. Am I happy with all this? No, but February is destined to hit the goals more closely.