Weariful

I woke up this morning completely devoid of ambition. I mean ambition for doing anything more ambitious than breathing. I woke up about 7:40am and found myself back in bed after 20 minutes of looking through the morning news. Thought I might look for a fallacy, but was back in bed by 8am.

I woke up again around 9:20am. I don't even remember what I did for an hour and a half, but I was laying back down by 11am. Got back up around 12:30pm and finally decided to get some caffeine in me and had one of those energy drinks. It definitely got me, normal. That's about it. I wrote for a couple of hours, to keep me on a pretty good pace for the week, so at least I did accomplish one thing today.

About 3pm, I decided to get some food. Up to that point, it had seemed,... encumbering and I didn't feel like dealing with it. I ate a sub I bought at the 7-Eleven. While there, I stocked up on more hyper-caffeine-type drinks.

The rest of the evening was spent listening to basketball games. Unfortunately, since the playoffs started, the free video feeds have disappeared and all I can get are the audio. Sneaky bastards giving us the free video all season now expect us to pay for it in the playoffs. Well, we all know how I feel about paying for TV! If I had been ambitious, I may have gone to the Hilton to watch a game or two.

I have been extra arrogant and cranky the past few days. I think the anticipation of my impending, rather large, sports betting loss is getting to me.

I am usually quite oblivious to stress. In fact, many times, a stressful situation is long over before I realize I should have acted as though it were even remotely stressful. Like dealing with the dunderhead who crawled into my window one summer day at six in the morning, back when I lived in the Knickerbocker. As I was asking the guy, as he was trying to discretely walk through my apartment in his boxers, "Can I help you?" I remember distinctly thinking, "I really don't want to get out of bed and deal with this guy. I'm tired and naked."

It never really occurred to me to do anything more than make smart ass quips at the guy. If it wasn't for the fact that I figured Charles would want to know about some strange guy crawling into people's windows, I would have just gone back to bed.

The point of the story being that I don't seem to get worked up by strange people breaking into my apartment, but I am now getting worked up over a silly sports bet. The incongruity of my reactions does not escape me. Perhaps, if I had had to deal with people crawling in through my window for more than a week, I would have begun to get more disconcerted.

I do not know if it was this impending doom that caused my lack of ambition today. It would seem like an atypical response for me, but I suppose it is as good a guess as ridiculously poor diet, lack of exercise, or something equally silly.

Either way, now that I am conscious of what is causing me to over exert my assness. I will endeavor to keep it in check.