The Thirty-Seventh Post: The One Where I Force Myself to Write Something…

I am going to say it and be done with it: I hate the holiday season. I get depressed… very depressed… during this time. I wake up to the darkness, and I spend all the daylight hours inside and I travel home in the darkness. All I want to do is stay home and play Borderlands and drink absinthe. I haven’t written anything outside of this for a couple of weeks. I have been working out regularly, but it’s now getting to be tedious. I just want to be left alone.

So in that spirit – I am making myself write something, even if it’s this dinky little blog. I’ve been getting some good ideas, but it’s a hassle just to get to the laptop to put them down. Thankfully, I’ve got some notebooks nearby, so I’m not losing anything – in fact, I got one for the ‘Pentateuch of Able’ and I am hoping to get some more traction on it… but really… who am I kidding? It’s a chore to get out of bed, much less psyche myself up to get to the gym and then work – especially work. Those of you who know what I do for a day job can understand why I am less than enthused to go there even on my best day. Now? *Snirk*

How tired am I? It’s not just ‘running on 5 hours of sleep’ tired. It’s something deeper than that. I’m just tired of being here, under these circumstances, with this life. If there was a way I could shed this life like an old coat, I would feel better. No pain, no muss, no fuss – just a step to the side and far better circumstances than what I have now.

I’m just tired.

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