When will I learn?
So I started this week out the same way I've started the last few weeks --- with a vow to take better care of myself, eat better, sleep more, spend more wisely, go out less, etc. And Monday that went pretty well (other than eating a doughnut for lunch). And the yesterday, Frank IMed me asking if I wanted to go out. Well...how could I say no? Rather easily, I suppose, but of course I didn't. And while I was somewhat responsible and got home at a relatively reasonable hour, I'm still $30 poorer and pretty damn tired. Oops. On the bright side, I did get some play last night. But we agreed that I won't post about that, so Rob, we're going to have a chat one of these night. :)
As I've gotten more active on here, and as people have told me that I should post more often, I've been thinking about what sort of things I would say. I can't imagine anyone's all that interested in the mundane details of my life. It occurred to me that the interesting period in my life, when my journal would have been entertaining to read, has paid. I no longer have the stories about eating morning glory seed paste, the wheelchair story (in spite of the fact that it's a LIE!), the "high school reunion" in the parking garage (sadly, not a lie), the hippie who stole my shoes, and so on. I'm sure my Poodle could come up with a few more. So I guess my options are to 1) go back to the recklessness of those days or 2) bore people to death with the minutia of my life. I'll have to marinate on that.
As I've gotten more active on here, and as people have told me that I should post more often, I've been thinking about what sort of things I would say. I can't imagine anyone's all that interested in the mundane details of my life. It occurred to me that the interesting period in my life, when my journal would have been entertaining to read, has paid. I no longer have the stories about eating morning glory seed paste, the wheelchair story (in spite of the fact that it's a LIE!), the "high school reunion" in the parking garage (sadly, not a lie), the hippie who stole my shoes, and so on. I'm sure my Poodle could come up with a few more. So I guess my options are to 1) go back to the recklessness of those days or 2) bore people to death with the minutia of my life. I'll have to marinate on that.