because the way it unravels entangles me.
I am feeling a little blue. It's a beautiful sunny day outside, although it's forecasted to rain. At least the weather's doing something.
Unlike I. I, who has not been productive. At all.
I did finally finish the touch-ups of the journal layout, but really, it isn't what I was supposed to be doing.
The next four weeks or so is going to be gruelling, just because there is so much to do, so many things to get done, so many temptations to resist. Wherever the wind blows is not going to carry me through all that, despite my almost-ridiculous fondness of the expression, and how I seem to always live by it. Tick-tock.
Yes, yes, I know time is running out, time does not stop for me (and how I wish it did) or anyone else in the world, for that matter. Perhaps I need to see a psychologist again, because this is precariously close to.. well, insanity.
The paper I wrote on about a week ago, is staring at me, full of dates and words and I can sense urgency radiating off it. Yet I would rather stare back at it, somewhat defensively, and resume typing this entry. It's calming, but it does not erase those due dates, does not rid the fact that I still have a million things to do before Monday comes.
Tick.
Tock.
And I'm getting my guitar back today, too. Oh dear, temptations, temptations, temptations.
.. I should get going. At least do something. And stop procrastinating. And stop wallowing.
It's a beautiful sunny day outside. I should feel sunny, too.
Unlike I. I, who has not been productive. At all.
I did finally finish the touch-ups of the journal layout, but really, it isn't what I was supposed to be doing.
The next four weeks or so is going to be gruelling, just because there is so much to do, so many things to get done, so many temptations to resist. Wherever the wind blows is not going to carry me through all that, despite my almost-ridiculous fondness of the expression, and how I seem to always live by it. Tick-tock.
Yes, yes, I know time is running out, time does not stop for me (and how I wish it did) or anyone else in the world, for that matter. Perhaps I need to see a psychologist again, because this is precariously close to.. well, insanity.
The paper I wrote on about a week ago, is staring at me, full of dates and words and I can sense urgency radiating off it. Yet I would rather stare back at it, somewhat defensively, and resume typing this entry. It's calming, but it does not erase those due dates, does not rid the fact that I still have a million things to do before Monday comes.
Tick.
Tock.
And I'm getting my guitar back today, too. Oh dear, temptations, temptations, temptations.
.. I should get going. At least do something. And stop procrastinating. And stop wallowing.
It's a beautiful sunny day outside. I should feel sunny, too.