Spinning My Wheels

Awoke with another bad headache, dizziness, and the like.  Fortunately, I have only one “required” trek today.  The problem is that it’ll put me in contact with a guy who’s nice, but incredibly loud – I mean, my eardrums literally rattle when this guy speaks to me – and I’m debating whether I’m up to dealing with that.

It’s another cool morning, and if Accuweather is correct (ha!), it’s likely the coolest day of the week; I know that we’re headed into higher temps by week’s end.  I like this – I’ve always liked cool days, compared to those that were either too hot or too cold; I wish the rest of the season stayed like this.  The best part is that in being cool, I was able to make the breakfast I wanted, resulting in a biscuit/egg/sausage/cheese sandwich, and yes – it was good.

To be fair, I should call it my “Bisquick biscuit/egg white/turkey sausage/cheese” sandwich, because that’s what it is.  I have no idea where I developed a taste for these, but I’ve got the hunger for them and when the weather is just right, that’s what you’ll find on my morning plate.  Maybe because they’re so relatively cheap to make?  A box of Bisquick, a bag of turkey sausage patties, a carton of egg whites, and a package of sliced cheese – probably $20 total, yet it comes out to less than a buck per sandwich.  Can’t go wrong with that, can you?  Still, I’ll have to think on that.


I’m supposed to be working on a project that was due a week ago.  I didn’t want to work on the project in the first place, but it was an opportunity.  Unfortunately for me, the basic gist of the project went way over my head (headaches and other bodily pains did little to help), but while I get what’s going on – now – I don’t like what I’ve done and would rather scrap the entirety of my “contribution” to the project than submit it as-is.  For the last four days, I’ve been telling myself that if I just finish up four pages of work, I could submit it, let the proverbial chips fall where they may, and move on – but at least the thing would be finished.  But I can’t bring myself to do it, either as some form of protest (’cause I really don’t want to do this), or because I have some deeply-rooted dislike of my own failure here.  My point, though, is that I’ve noticed this odd characteristic about myself – my failure to follow through – and that it’s gotten worse over time.  I don’t know where I developed this, to be honest, and I don’t understand why I’ve reached a point in my life where I’m more willing to accept “the hit” than make the effort to complete the handful of steps remaining.

See, I tend to get about half-way into a project before this willingness to surrender appears.  It’s never at the start or shortly thereafter; it’s always after I’ve hit the half-way point, and in some cases, literally inches away from the finish line.  I felt this way when I was nearing the end of my dissertation – just pages away from the end after years of work, yet I was so close to casually tossing the whole thing into the trash and starting something new.

Another example – I’ve needed to make a doctor’s appointment for two weeks now.  Guess how close I’ve been to doing that, despite setting up reminders for myself on a near daily basis?  The eye exam that’s four months past due?  The basement cleaning I’ve promised for three years?  The phone call I was supposed to make two days ago?

Don’t suggest that it reflects a lack of commitment, because that’s hardly the case.  I have no issue with commitments, but occasionally – more often now than ever – I find myself just accepting the idea of tossing my hands in the air and surrendering to Fate.  Just sitting like some mass on a log and watching life go on by, as if it all were perfectly natural.  My failure here won’t cost me my job, but it may severely impact certain elements of my employment future.  Worse, the longer that I dilly-dally with this crap, the longer it’s going to take me to address a slew of other projects, some of which will affect my job.  There’s a strong self-destructive element in play here and I can’t seem to keep it contained.  It’s like I don’t even have much of a fight inside me anymore – and trust me, if you knew me as a younger person, you’d find that statement ridiculously hard to believe.  I mean, I actually have what I need to do for this project written down at this moment; all I need to do is to type them up and hit the “Enter” key – and yet, I don’t want to do it. This isn’t right.  I’ve done it before, and I’ve been doing it a lot more recently.  I know it’s not right, and still I can’t seem to bring myself to break this pattern.

Something’s wrong.

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