"Be sure to pronounce 'speciality' with five syllables." — W&G |
I'm overtired again, and for no good reason. I just farted around on the computer until 3 a.m. last night because I didn't feel like going to bed. I took my walk at lunch today, but bagged my plans to go to the gym. I also bought a cheese calzone for dinner, which is a slap in the faces of my diet and my budget. I rationalized it by telling myself that as long as I wasn't drinking... and that I deserved it after a rather taxing afternoon of employment.
One of my college roommates told me more than once that I would be a terrifying rich person because I always seek to instantly gratify every desire I have and because I obsessively pursue pleasure-seeking activities even when I should stop doing them. For example, he couldn't believe that I was so undisciplined as to stay up until 4 a.m. playing video games (on his computer) on a school night and then sleep through my morning class. I won't deny the fact that I never learned much self-discipline, and you don't need to know me long to have this quality of my character validated. I think, however, that this pattern of behavior is perfectly in line with the addictive personality type. One theory about addicts is that their default pleasure/pain setting is too low. Therefore, anything (it really doesn't matter what it is) that stimulates the pleasure centers of their brain has a potential for abuse, like me and those video games.
10:30 p.m. Update: I was showing all the signs of working myself into some kind of depressive frenzy, which rarely ends well. So I decided to go out to the movies by myself. (Screw you, budget!) I went and saw the movie Ted, which was pretty freakin' hilarious in some parts, and Seth MacFarlane managed to go the entire hour and a half without making an AIDS joke. Afterward, I got myself some ice cream. (Fuck you, diet!) But I'm hoping to take a shower now, clean myself up and get into bed for a decent night's sleep.
Shit My Dad Says
I had dinner with my parents last night, which was lovely. But I mentioned how much writing I've done and how many magazines I've sent submissions to because I'm still torqued by it all. You'd think that they'd know me well enough to realize that, getting it together to pursue the only thing I've ever found meaningful, is a majorly positive sign, but my father's contribution was only, "So how much does that pay?" That could sum up his encouragement (or lack thereof) of my creative endeavors throughout my life. He doesn't see the value in anything that doesn't have an immediate monetary return and has always sought to impress that upon me. It's no coincidence that I often cannot sustain the passion to see through pursuing my dreams.