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01 February 2007 @ 01:16 pm
God, I'm on this huge hangover right now from the weekend. You have no idea how difficult it is to get up and go to work this week. If I wasn't waking at 5am every day to go running, I'd have nothing to look forward to.

As I rounded lap 6 or 7 yesterday morning, I envisioned the rest of my day: laboring over a sore achilles tendon, limping through the subway and straining to stand as the train dragged me to my slow demise, resting it at work hoping for a cure only to be stabbed in the back with more nagging pain on the way home. In short, I planned on taking this morning off. Miraculously, by the time I went to bed it felt about as good as it did when I started running in the morning. So, today I ran, and it's still no worse for the wear. Poor form is now guiding me through my travails.

I have nothing else going on right now. I'm not writing a damn thing; I'm not planning on writing a damn thing any time soon. I have two long-term goals that are steadfast on my mind (losing weight and paying off debt) and until these fucking monkeys are taken care of, there's no diversity in my life. I guess I'm reading some, and I'm jotting down ideas for stories, but I've got absolutely no passion in my life right now. Getting healthy and making money and cooking like a grown up - I'm going to make a proper dinner for the first time since Sunday night when I get home later (I've been living off of cans of chili and Jewish raisin bread for the last two nights).

Friday night, I'm either getting drunk or going out; I don't care which. The only problem (if it is a problem) is that, if I'm stuck going out by myself, then I'm going to see a movie, and the only movie out there worth a testicle is "Smokin' Aces" and that movie's been getting highly mixed reviews (though, Rolling Stone, which I generally trust above all else, says it's worth watching; from the same guy who made "Narc"). Of course, I could just as easily see myself renting a couple movies from Hollywood Video, buying a six-pack of Budweiser tall-boys, and masturbating under a blanket until the roommates go to sleep.

I have a list of somewhat pointless Day-Long Projects tacked to my wall. In no particular order, they are:

* Redesign/Revamp/Update my entire website, including uploading all the new stories I don't yet have up there

* Spend 12 hours doing nothing but listening to music and writing down the occasional thought (without any other outside stimuli like phone, computer, book, or human conversation)

* Spend 12 hours doing nothing but writing

* From sundown to sunrise, just walk around the city, without sleeping, without going home (in a summer month, when it's a little less nipple-hardening outside)

* Fast for 36 hours

I have reasons for all of these. First, my website is always going to be rinky dink because I don't have any interest in making my website look fancy with yer Java and whatnot. Really, I just don't care for the color scheme; but the most important factor is that I haven't updated it in like a year. It's time. And it's time to start keeping up on that on a regular basis. Plus, I have ideas for things to add to it.

The music thing is very simple: I read this article in Rolling Stone and there was this article about this guy who was a really bigtime record producer. And, there was this line where a guy said about how, when they were younger, they'd just get together and sit around in a room simply listening to music. That got me to thinking, we, as a society, NEVER do that anymore! I noticed my music-listening pattern over the last few years, and I've either been tied to an iPod while out-and-about or listening to my computer while doing other things. So, I'm rededicating myself to my appreciation of music.

The 12-hour writing thing isn't actually my idea, it's Jenny's. We meant to try and do that as a writing group last year, but it never happened. Well, it's GOING to happen, even if I have to do it all by myself.

The walking around the city thing was this idea I had late last year when I was alone in Manhattan and I wondered how long I could stay away from the apartment. It doesn't have to be all walking around outside; I could find a bar to park myself in, or I could walk around like Dave Attell on Insomniac seeing if I can find weird shit to do that doesn't involve sexual favors to crack dealers.

And the fasting I did in college. Granted, I had six Coors Lights in there, but I'd hardly call that food OR drink. Fasting's good, it cleanses the body and soul. An obvious weekend chore.