Another sleepless night. I never used to watch TV, and now I find the late night schedule engraved in my brain. I'm keeping it in that spot I was saving for Algebra 2, back when I had plans to make it out of 10th grade. Probably doesn't matter too much at this point. At least I have plenty of time to read. I'm on my millionth run through of "Our Band Could Be Your Life". My life could kill your band.
I have too much downtime right now, but I always feel busy. My mind never stops spinning, and I never get anything done. I'm a master procrastinator. A professional amateur. I've got big plans and not the slightest idea of how to accomplish any of them. I spend way too much time in my head mapping everything out. I've always been neurotic, but it's getting ridiculous. I've only gone out once since I've been back from the Angel Sluts Tour. I don't want to go out. I want to get things done. I don't want to have fun. I want to work. I really hope I'm not possessed by the living spirit of Henry Rollins. See a grown man ***. Now watch him die.
Soooo...today (or yesterday technically). Played a lot of basketball. It felt good to compete. I need that in my life. Then I went to see Lauren's dance thing at the UofM. A nice change of pace for me. She's a really talented dancer/choreographer. I really respect how hard she's always worked at it. I think the two of us have similar drives. She outworks me, but I think we have the same fire. The me against the world mentality. Somewhere over the years I've gained a great respect for dance. I legitimately enjoy watching it, and I like watching how she's grown over the years. Good stuff.
After the performance I took Leighann home. Somewhere between East Memphis and midtown, I decided to be miserable. I honestly don't know why she puts up with me. I call myself a "work in progress", when in reality there's no progression. Stagnant stagnant stagnant. Blah. Here's to you Mrs. Robinson. Fuck off. Who cares?
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