I did nothing this weekend. Well, not “nothing”, I did go take care of my lady for about 12-14 hours. I made a couple of deep dish pizzas by hand. But you know how I was supposed to study and I was supposed to work on the book and how I was supposed to be all responsible? Yeah, I did none of those. Any and all free time I had went into mindlessly playing video games. If I recall correctly, some drinking did occur.
I promised myself not to get neurotic or defensive or guilty. And you know what? I am none of those things. I did what I wanted to do, which was relax, and I did it with aplomb.
I was supposed to take that Accuplacer test today. At least, that’s the deadline I set for myself. I’m gonna defy that too. I’m in the mood where I don’t want to study for it, I just want it out of the way. Where I should just take the damned thing and let god sort it out. I won’t, though. I’m merely going to procrastinate just a little longer. I will study, I’ll take the test, but I’ll also take my time. I don’t particularly feel the need to rush right now.
I’m not positive why I’m feeling defiantly lazy this weekend. Could be spring fever hitting, could be I’ve just hit my limit as far as sustained responsibility goes, or something unseen. What I attribute to my lethargy, at least what was haunting me yesterday, was reflection on the significance of it all. I won’t drone too much on existentialism, a condition from which I suffer. No. I’ll make as succinct and as accessible as I can: The lady I love is dying. I feel helpless and sad because of it. I want to sulk for the time being.
. . . Yeah, that get’s to the point quite nicely.