In the spirit of the MLK Jr. day, I holed up in my place for almost the entirety of one day. Well, with the exception of taking my car in to get serviced, which only resulted in an overpriced oil change instead of the major work I thought it needed. Apparently, I am not only a hypochondriac, but I am also one for my car. I came home to contemplate much and do very little. A lot of energy went into nothing – some might say it was a waste of a day.
I did manage, however, to put energy into fantasizing about having sex and the potential for having it, which I could have, only it seemed like a dumb idea. I abandoned it for lack of motivation, effort, and not wanting to recycle habits nor lovers. For a moment, I felt like I wanted a do-over, so I could have my life from 3 weeks ago. It seemed more in tune then. I then shifted to the big questions: how much longer do I want to stay here? “Here” meaning this job, this state, this state of being, this life. All day, I meandered through the internet, silence, and stared at the junipers being pummeled by the wind all the while wanting to go outside. To run, to shake off the doldrums of a winter that just won’t start.
Instead, I just did some leg work on the exercise ball. I didn’t even bother taking off my coat, which I’ve been wearing all day, or change from jeans. Nope, I kept my flip-flops and socks on and dove right into squats.
Maybe it was a bad idea to return to vegetarianism.