Friday, March 20, 2009

When I was a kid, I read that kisses taste like chicken | They don't.

A funny thing happens when you no longer know someone: you realize that can't put their face with your memories anymore. It's as if your memories are an imposter... or is it the person you're staring at? Like that gut-flinch you get when you look up into the mirror and you think, "Gosh, that... is me", but you don't recognize yourself. I am always startled by this phenomenon that seems to happen to me every so often... one would think that I have drawn myself enough to have my own features cemented into my brain, but no. They still occasionally surprise me.

This week was just down-right weird. A lot of crazy stuff happened... all of which I am opting out of sharing on here. I get continually frustrated with myself, at my lack of initiative. Last night I was explaining to someone that I try to be "on the ball" as much as possible, and we had a good laugh about how we try to always appear to be on the ball so that everyone will think we're so together, when we're really clawing our way upwards and haven't actually managed to attain anything beyond the ordinary. Ironic, really. I'm glad someone understands how I feel, at least. Then I don't feel so inadequate. Perhaps none of us are really ever "on the ball"? What does that even mean?

Back to the point: I despise my lack of "just do it-ness". I feel like I have a ton of great ideas - especially for work for grad school - and then as soon as I get my chance and my free time, I just pop on the TV or surf the internet. I keep telling myself, "5 more minutes and I'll get started, 5 more minutes". It's exhausting to battle oneself. I wish I could learn to prioritize better. Maybe I need a rubberband around my wrist or something. I get discouraged when I feel like I've wasted my time on idleness - and even worse - that I could've done something about it but I consciously and deliberately chose not to. I don't know why I'm seemingly obsessed with always doing something and feeling guilty for sitting on my butt... perhaps I'm so used to having to multitask and run around like a chicken with my head cut off that I don't know how to operate otherwise.

This life is growing tiresome and unfulfilling; change is in order.


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