i didn’t write for days, what’s wrong with me? i feel like every time i do write it ends up starting out with talking about not writing. i mentally promise myself not to do that anymore because it is bland and i would tire of it if i were reading what i end up writing, but look how well i stick to these minor convictions. i tend to save my energy for the major ones.

on the topic of being bland though, i’ve been suspecting lately that i am becoming more so over time. although i fear this possibility and hope it is only a case of not living up to the sparkling standards of what a captivating person i wish i could constantly be, i am at least occasionally worried that it could be at least partially true. perhaps it is a product of spending so much time at work with people i can’t flex my full cleverness with in an appreciative environment. perhaps i am turning inward in emotional preparation for the upcoming diaspora of my robot house circle, knowing that my comfortable living environment is soon to be disrupted and sadly missed, and as a result feel less inclined to exercise any wit. whatever the case, i have promised myself not to let this continue, and to be as diverting as i can. it should be just like situps; the more i work at it, the better i will be. and my abdomen has really come a long way.

and on the nearly-exhausted topic of not writing enough, well, excuses are beneath me. life has felt very full lately, almost never a dull minute. given several more hours in each day, i could easily pack them to their limit and still feel guilty going to sleep at night and wasting precious time unconscious. i’m trying to read books, listen to music, watch movies, enjoy friends, catch tv shows, go out, live it up and have a good time with every minute of free time and i just think i’m doing good job of it right now. i’m very alive at the moment. i almost won at ping pong last night. i think we’re going camping on saturday. we have tickets to no less than six concerts so far in the month of july. i was sitting on top of a mountain only 5 days ago. tomorrow is pay day. i’m in a good mood.

end with requisite and unneccessary ‘boy this seems long’ comment (even though commenting on that may be equally egregious itself).

more later.

[in my head: fischerspooner remnants from the car ride this morning.]