January has been a bit rough for me. A close friend of mine decided to drop dead of a heart attack, and I came down with some kind of respiratory and stomach virus super combo the day after that. Driving across Texas for the funeral was extra exciting with my guts in such a state.

Then of course, the Apocalypse officially kicked off last Friday. I have indulged in watching the Nazi-getting-punched video several times, as an antidote to the anxious malaise settling over everything. There is so much work to do.

My partner and I usually do a Wii Fit routine in the morning to get in some cardio; I learned the hard way that the respiratory virus had found the On-switch for my asthma, and I was forced to stop a few minutes in. I was pissed off about the whole thing, swearing and frustrated at what a couple of weeks of fluid in my lungs had done to my endurance. So I made some breakfast (second day of solid food in a week!), then I went for a walk around the neighborhood.

My legs felt like lead a few blocks in, but I kept going, following our normal two mile route. I kept a slow pace and stopped a couple of times, wondering if my stubbornness was about to get me in trouble, but I made it home. We live at the top of a hill, and that last block was the hardest part of the walk. I collapsed when I got inside, but I was breathing pretty easy.

And now I need to get to work on some client stuff I’ve been putting off, and get back on prospecting for new writing clients. My friend is still dead, my body is a wreck from this illness, and I am weeks behind on my goals to find more work. There are always going to be setbacks and unforeseen disasters.

The Universe, in general, has always been trying to stop us, to kill us, to wipe life out entirely. We’re still here because we keep moving. Give that asteroid the finger and get back up, faster, meaner, stronger than what we were before. I’ve made it this far in life because I remember that when things get hard. When the pain is too much, when the hole is so deep you can’t see the sun to know which way to climb out. Sometimes you have to take the tiniest, most frustrating steps to start moving forward. Like me limping down the street this morning to start building my lungs back up while carefully not triggering my asthma.

We are all unstoppable. We are all capable of rebuilding. Whether it’s fighting back against the terrible things the government is doing, or just improving your own life, there’s plenty of work to do.

Featured Image by Moyen Bren