After tomorrow, it will have been a year since I put forth the ambitious (and vocal) resolution to write a little something every day for the next 365 days. While it’s clear I didn't keep that resolution, I do feel like I successfully captured some small and big moments of 2013. Moments that meant things to me. And this year was no joke. So much happened. Amid the general excitement of trips and weddings and babies and mortgage paperwork (ehhh, not so exciting), I think I did good on time carved out to gawp at blank screens and words I didn't love and I put in that time even when I felt drained of creative drink. When I found myself staring for too long, I ordered more coffee and I ordered more wine and I sat in more café windows waiting for ideas to materialize, for thoughts to finish and make sense, and I still did that while dying to do anything else (except mortgage paperwork). This pressured New York of a lifetime I was born into isn't going anywhere, so this year I’m going to work on shooing away the contest between my professional and creative self. There’s too much value in pursuing the things in life we care most about, the things in life that make us most happy. Even if the things in life that make us most happy feel so freaking hard. Even if it’s just slipping a single postcard into a mailbox, or a foot into a slipper. I’m going to find new outlets.