"No sluggard, be it known, can hope to catch grasshoppers with any degree of success." --Me--Smith, Caroline Lockhart
Good thing I have absolutely no desire to catch grasshoppers. Or do much of anything, really. Side note: how good is the word sluggard? That's me, of course, in the image above. Me and my cat, Rebel. It pretty much represents my current level of motivation. My mom has mentioned (on a few occasions) how I was such a quiet baby--that I didn't cry all that much and how I wouldn't wake them up in the night even when I pissed and shit myself. I would probably find those stories amusing if things were significantly different now. Alright, so I'm not pissing and shitting myself, but I might as well be.
Lately I've been asking myself some questions. Not the big questions--the kind that get you motivated to make changes and better your life-- the kind that make you wonder what the hell the point in anything is. Why do people do anything? Why do I do anything? What would happen if I just stopped doing everything? I know, I know. Dumb questions. According to Ice Cube, "To G or not to G is the question." I'll admit that that's worth pondering as well. I suppose anything is worth spending time thinking about if thinking means not doing.
I guess I don't have to explain, dear reader, that I've been actively avoiding this blog as of late. I wish I had a better explanation, but really I just don't want to do it. I'm such a baby. If sluggard didn't accurately describe my attitude, then perhaps adding the word petulant will help to sum it up. A petulant sluggard. Hah! I actually like the sound of that. Maybe I should have some fun and write down every terrible word I've been using to describe myself and make a game of it? Something's got to give.
I think that I might have to resort to my old writing exercises for inspiration, and revisit some old notes from my college writing classes. Either that or one of you is going to have to offer ideas, or at least a swift kick in the ass. Well, there you have it. A blog post published in September. This is becoming a very strange and shameful habit, posting on the last day of the month, but whatever. I actually don't care that much. It's kind of like that date you go on with the guy you don't like because you haven't been on a date in while and you tell yourself you should go. Then, of course, you regret going on the date because it wasn't good (just like you thought) and it didn't really make you feel that much better. But, yes it did, because it gave you something to talk about. This post is basically the dumb guy you shouldn't have gone out with, but it's ok. Maybe that great guy will come along soon. It better not damn well be on October 31st, though. I'll have plans. At least I better.
I'm finally doing it--pulling my insides out and splattering them around for all to see. Here we go!