Every three or so months I do this. I remember I have a blog, I remember I have a place to write, and I promise myself I'll write more on my blog this time around. Starting today. I'm going to do it! I'm going to be consistent. I'm going to....... Lets be real. Life gets busy and writing is tedious. Some days its a big enough chore to get up and get showered and drink a cup of coffee and pretend to be interested in this wintery time in Eugene. But truthfully, I hate winter in Eugene. It depresses me and makes me jones for warm beaches, more than anything else.
But I'm getting off topic.
Turthfully, I'm not going to write every day. Even if its a good discipline. Even if its healing. (Both of which are true). I'm just not going to because some days I would rather lay in bed until the absolute last second possible than get up and be productive.
Shit. I sound like such a loser.
Oh well.
There's fog in Eugene right now. Like, a lot of f***ing fog. And its f***ing freezing as well. And I hate it. I hate it so much I have to verbally remind myself that life isn't always foggy and frustrating, and it does get better. It just takes time...
Shit. I hate that word.
Time is my least favorite aspect of life. It takes time for relationships to build. It takes time to pay off that last freakin' student loan that is pissing me off more than anything. It takes time to feel better. To heal my guts that have been ravaged by food allergies since I was a kid but didn't realize because I thought that everyone has explosive diarrhea after every meal. It takes time to see results when I work out. It takes time.
I get so damn annoyed of the time it takes to see things happen in life. And trust me, I know all the quotes about things worth while are worth the time it takes to achieve them. I know. And I still loathe it.
On the upswing, in less than a month I'm getting out of the country. I have never been where we're going, and I really don't know what to expect. But we're going. Which is great. And I wish I was getting on the plane tomorrow. And I have a feeling I'm not going to want to come back. Ever. Its just reality...
On that note, I'm going to leave my house now. And go do something that makes me feel a little less like this cold fog is sucking my soul of every last ounce of joy. Something like shopping, or rock climbing, or tanning, or.... hell. I don't care. I just need to do something more fun than sitting in my living room eating red bell pepper slices and thinking about how much I want to be somewhere else.
But I'm getting off topic.
Turthfully, I'm not going to write every day. Even if its a good discipline. Even if its healing. (Both of which are true). I'm just not going to because some days I would rather lay in bed until the absolute last second possible than get up and be productive.
Shit. I sound like such a loser.
Oh well.
There's fog in Eugene right now. Like, a lot of f***ing fog. And its f***ing freezing as well. And I hate it. I hate it so much I have to verbally remind myself that life isn't always foggy and frustrating, and it does get better. It just takes time...
Shit. I hate that word.
Time is my least favorite aspect of life. It takes time for relationships to build. It takes time to pay off that last freakin' student loan that is pissing me off more than anything. It takes time to feel better. To heal my guts that have been ravaged by food allergies since I was a kid but didn't realize because I thought that everyone has explosive diarrhea after every meal. It takes time to see results when I work out. It takes time.
I get so damn annoyed of the time it takes to see things happen in life. And trust me, I know all the quotes about things worth while are worth the time it takes to achieve them. I know. And I still loathe it.
On the upswing, in less than a month I'm getting out of the country. I have never been where we're going, and I really don't know what to expect. But we're going. Which is great. And I wish I was getting on the plane tomorrow. And I have a feeling I'm not going to want to come back. Ever. Its just reality...
On that note, I'm going to leave my house now. And go do something that makes me feel a little less like this cold fog is sucking my soul of every last ounce of joy. Something like shopping, or rock climbing, or tanning, or.... hell. I don't care. I just need to do something more fun than sitting in my living room eating red bell pepper slices and thinking about how much I want to be somewhere else.