~"Most of them go to the cafeteria ladies, but one remained behind..."
~Really I was about to be off and meditate, then practice for a healthy 3-4 hours (I wished). However, needless to say, I told myself that about 37 minutes ago, and indeed intended the meditating part to be over by 30 minutes after that, which would mean that not only was I meant to be well into practicing for 7 minutes ago since now, but that I am in time debt already for an approximate 30 minutes even before that for meditation. Being 12:07 at the very moment, this would mean that to make up for the time indebted, and assuming that I would begin quite immediately, I would (oh, bugger, it's 12:08 already) finish only at an approximated minumum of 37 (38) minutes from now, putting the said time at 12:46.
~The level of my procrastination is miserable.
~And you see, by this point, I have received countless, "Well, go the bloody hell on and just DO IT." It has come to the point that I hop myself into that train of mentality, and invariably only find myself going around... and around... and around in circles. And no side of the circle is very helpful at all so far. One side sits and whines as badly as the Prince of the Swamp in Monty Python and the Holy Grail (with the same nasally voice), and other side holds up a frying pan and attempts to beat the sense into my dense skull each time I pass by. One side will simply completely ignore what anyone is doing at all, and proceeds to click mindlessly at the computer, or push mindlessly at gaming buttons. Ah, wait. That would be the train conductor.
~Frankly, I have plenty of objectional motivation (I'm really not quite certain if that's a substantial term for it, aber wer weiß...) . The problem seems to arise in knowing where the path and steps to get there begins, or should begin, or would begin for the most efficient track. And frankly, I am truly, truly miserable at making decisions. The last time my friends took me to a restaurant, they had a fabulous time laughing at my complete incompetence at deciding what the hell I want to eat. My all-encompassing but curiously pathetic response is always, "Really! I don't care what you give me!" Sometimes, I have half a mind to tell people in the restaurant service, "Oh, I don't know, sir. Why don't you give me whatever it is that you typically like to order on Saturday nights at 19:23?"
~That was all related to the topic at hand somehow, I'm sure. Irgendwie, I think this has become a problem. I've finally decided that now. It is a problem. At times I think I have become so very dependent on what my parents can decide for me and the choices I would take just because it would be better for someone, even if it wouldn't be myself, that when it comes to an all-out have-it-as-you-please, I feel like someone pulled the drain stopper in the middle of the floor under my brain and I watch it all get sucked out like.... like things that get rapidly sucked down a drain.
~In decision-making times that are as free as that, I often feel guilty, and definitely uncertain, and hesitant, and suspicious, and afraid. There's really not a reason to be afraid, in most cases. That's the feeling that I get, however. "Oh me jumpin' baffies, I've got t' DECIDE meself sump'in?!" It doesn't feel pretty. It's a problem, yes. I don't know how to fix it, no.
~Another lovely 17 minutes of indecisiveness have passed.
~The level of my procrastination is miserable.
~And you see, by this point, I have received countless, "Well, go the bloody hell on and just DO IT." It has come to the point that I hop myself into that train of mentality, and invariably only find myself going around... and around... and around in circles. And no side of the circle is very helpful at all so far. One side sits and whines as badly as the Prince of the Swamp in Monty Python and the Holy Grail (with the same nasally voice), and other side holds up a frying pan and attempts to beat the sense into my dense skull each time I pass by. One side will simply completely ignore what anyone is doing at all, and proceeds to click mindlessly at the computer, or push mindlessly at gaming buttons. Ah, wait. That would be the train conductor.
~Frankly, I have plenty of objectional motivation (I'm really not quite certain if that's a substantial term for it, aber wer weiß...) . The problem seems to arise in knowing where the path and steps to get there begins, or should begin, or would begin for the most efficient track. And frankly, I am truly, truly miserable at making decisions. The last time my friends took me to a restaurant, they had a fabulous time laughing at my complete incompetence at deciding what the hell I want to eat. My all-encompassing but curiously pathetic response is always, "Really! I don't care what you give me!" Sometimes, I have half a mind to tell people in the restaurant service, "Oh, I don't know, sir. Why don't you give me whatever it is that you typically like to order on Saturday nights at 19:23?"
~That was all related to the topic at hand somehow, I'm sure. Irgendwie, I think this has become a problem. I've finally decided that now. It is a problem. At times I think I have become so very dependent on what my parents can decide for me and the choices I would take just because it would be better for someone, even if it wouldn't be myself, that when it comes to an all-out have-it-as-you-please, I feel like someone pulled the drain stopper in the middle of the floor under my brain and I watch it all get sucked out like.... like things that get rapidly sucked down a drain.
~In decision-making times that are as free as that, I often feel guilty, and definitely uncertain, and hesitant, and suspicious, and afraid. There's really not a reason to be afraid, in most cases. That's the feeling that I get, however. "Oh me jumpin' baffies, I've got t' DECIDE meself sump'in?!" It doesn't feel pretty. It's a problem, yes. I don't know how to fix it, no.
~Another lovely 17 minutes of indecisiveness have passed.