Is it possible to freeze the first layer of skin on your face? Because I think that's what just happened to me.
Either way, I sit now in this familiar, cozy little coffee shop (I assume that as long as I live they'll continue knocking on my door) and sip at the coffee that is one step beyond comfortable-drinking-temperature. There is not much of me that is prolific today, but the little that exists is twisting my arm about how many times I really have thought about things to say in the last few weeks. It seems as if the minute I get back into the swing of things, my mind begins to do the same. And that, brave adventurers, is the thesis of today's excursion.
I texted my mom the other day (Hi, Mom), excited about the phenomenon that had just occurred in my life. For much of the first month of 2010 (how crazy, though, right? 2010?) I have either given myself or slumped into, I don't know which, a sort of comatose routine; this includes doing a lot of nothing all day except for making coffee and chatting with friends and, admittedly, succumbing to that boyish video-game thing that hides like a vicious beast within all us strapping young adults. Now, let me say that I am not particularly proud of this stint in early January, but there is something about having a lot of free time that tends to force me into sloth-mode, seeing as how the other 11 months of my year are pretty much thoroughly mired in a swamp of obligation.
I sent a textual message to Mom (more on texting coming later; it infuriates me). I have risen out of my slump and dumped myself into the vat of obligation. How unattractive it sounds. How structured. How tedious.
And I love it.
Which is why, dear literary explorers, I told Mom I was so happy to get back into the swing of pressure and deadline and obligation and work! It is an amazing thing to realize how much happier I actually am when I am working hard. I suppose that could be the reason why Americans live to work. Have I talked about that before? Americans: live to work. Italians: work to live. I'll have to review and see if I've explained it, because that's another tidbit I'd sometime like to expound upon. O God, think my readers, more philosophy.
So, among other things, I love working. I love being busy, which I knew about myself, but I went and underestimated the effect that it has on my happiness. And now that you know what my #1 raison d'etre is, you know how important it is for me to stay busy!
What I'd like you to take away from this educational experience we've just shared is only that I tend to camouflage the things that really afford me happiness in favor of what is easier and more accessible. If I can hazard a guess, I'd propose that human nature leans toward this 'easier-is-better' mantra. Using my failure...don't give up!
And now that I have made this into an awkward 'is he trying to teach me something that is really obvious' lesson, I'll move onto my rant about textual messaging, requiring nothing but a pair of comprehending eyes.
TEXT MESSAGING SUCKS! Don't be fooled! It can seem like a really convenient way to get to know someone and then all of the sudden it will sidle up next to you, make you comfortable, and then rip the rug out from under you! You will fall, bang your head, and then allow that trickster to innocently help you up from the ground, all apologetic. After which, he'll DO IT AGAIN!
How malicious you are, text message. Unfeeling and guiltless. Damn you!
But if we were to, for a second, take a journey back into reality where text messages are not, in fact, real people, let me explain myself. Text messaging, as I have said, is not fun and dandy. It has become this form of communication that makes everything that you have to say seem easy. Want to quit your job? Text your boss. Feel like breaking up with your girlfriend? Text her. Need to get to know somebody you've just met? Don't worry, you don't have to actually communicate with them! Text them! It's not a problem, because if your boss or your now-ex-girlfriend or your new friend-who-isn't-really-your-friend get angry or upset, you don't even have to reply! If they call you, you don't have to answer. You've already won, because you got the information that you had to convey across already and don't have to deal with the guilt or the hassle of working anything out. That, and the fact that so much is implied or left out of textual communication: people (myself, guiltily included) read into every little detail. Maybe that's just me, but it feels like the collective community of texters feels similar.
It's my goal to stop texting so much; it'll go on the list of resolutions that I have. It's not a terribly long resolution list, but it's worth the trouble. It gives me things to do and tasks to complete, to bring my blog around full-circle. Thank God for ambition.
