Ooooh! September 7 I got 25 reads! How exciting! Harumph. I used to get 100s a day, back when I wrote a lot and tried to be funny. I don’t even care if I’m funny anymore. Is this apathy a signature of aging or is it just me? I realized while driving to work this morning that a lot of life seems so much effort. I used to be on top of it. Bill needed paying? I paid it. Dish needed washing? I washed it. Shelves needed dusting? I dusted them. Something broke? I fixed it. Never a wait. Never a pause. Just get it done. That was my motto too, get it done and then you won’t have it staring you in the face for weeks on end. Now? It stares me in the face. Oh yeah, I need to sew the hole in that pair of trousers. And then I don’t do it. I might even wear the trousers with the hole, that’s how little I care these days. It isn’t like I’m using the time for something more valuable either. I’m not. I did paint my kitchen, but the paint tape is still there, a week and a half later. I’ve been removing it gradually. Oh let’s see, I think I can reach this piece. Oh, I have to climb on a chair to get in this cupboard and get something, I’ll pull off a couple of more pieces. But I still haven’t fixed the places where the old paint is on the white woodwork because the previous painters sucked. I’ll do it, eventually. I’m AMAZED I remodeled an entire house by myself. Where did I ever find the motivation? I thoroughly lack motivation. What is this? I’m not depressed; not at all. I really just don’t give much of a shit anymore. And that’s probably not so good. I’m kind of in a zen mood, letting some things be as they are. Maybe someday my Type A-ness will return. Type Anus. Oh dang. That made me laugh. Silly, silly stupidity. The things that make me chuckle.
I think I’ll go have some hot chocolate and mull it over. I’m not motivated enough to write anymore.