It’d Be Nice
My weekend consisted of drinking and video games. Oh yeah, there was sleeping in there, too. A spit ton of sleeping. Of all the responsible things I could have done, I did none. I think in a feeble attempt to start, I made a weak to-do list that consisted of six or seven obvious items. After that, I tossed the list aside and forgot the world. I still can’t recall where I put the damned thing.
Where from here? Do I chastise myself for over indulging? Overcompensate with work? Defy those feelings of guilt with a misplaced pride? Quite frankly, I don’t care to partake in my regular thinking. The self hate, guilt, remorse bull-spit sure is fatiguing. As much for me to write about as for you to read, I’m sure. On top of that, I’d like to think I am more than just that. You know, that whinging fellow who does nothing but brood. It’d be nice if I had more to me than that.
It’d be nice.
The reality of the situation is this: what we have here is Steve inadvertently participating in some bad habits. And if that Steve fellow isn’t careful, the longer he lounges in those ways; the harder it’ll be for him to change. In essence, I need to pull myself together and defy those lazy instincts. Seductive as they are, they’ll bring me to ruin. Participating now and again is fine, too much and I’m sunk. Find me that balance.