I almost just went to bed without writing a blog post today, internet. I almost just kiboshed 248 consecutive days of writing a blog simply by forgetting to write a blog post and going to bed instead.
I feel like I’ve been really scatterbrained recently and things like that have been slipping through the cracks and apparently I need to get a grip or get some sleep or drop a responsibility or shift some weight around or something. I have been working a lot more recently to cover up for my car drama. I have been working on several secret projects. I have also been hanging out a lot with a certain he-who-shall-not-be-named (yes, the secret’s out, I’m a deatheater. Just kidding, obviously. But I am a Slytherin), but more on that later. Or never. Probably never.
Wow, this is turning into a super dramatic post, and I didn’t really want to write a super dramatic post. I mostly just want to go to bed.
I guess the thing is that I’m really worn out, and I don’t really know why. Some days I feel accomplished and productive and really on top of things and I’m hanging out with the people I need to hang out with and and checking things off of my to-do list and responding to emails and calling my grandparents and eating balanced meals. Other days, like today, I sit in an empty office for 2 hours with a pile of work in front of me just staring at it like it’s written in Aramaic, and then I get home and realize I’ve done nothing worthwhile and do nothing about it and forget about my blog and just basically curl up in a corner like a lump. Of nothingness. A nothinglump.
I don’t know. Is that normal? I feel like that’s probably normal, but I have nothing to go on.
My role model Ron Swanson once said:
Sometimes (especially lately) I feel I’m not even half-assing it. I’m like, eighth assing things.
Maybe bed will help.