Now that I’ve failed my mission to post daily I’m think I’ll ease up a bit. Maybe posting on the weekends is just one of those things that will never happen. That said, it’s still a week day and I have something to write.
Ever since I moved here I’ve been completely unmotivated to do anything. It started out because of the extended leave I took from working. For the first two months I absolutely wanted to do nothing but relax. And then, as some of you will remember, it was just awful because I wasn’t sure when I would be working again. I hated the idea of living in Southern California and the more that things seemed to go wrong, the easier it was to start hating it. I got into a rut of hating my surroundings and drowning them out with the television.
This past weekend while we were in Seattle, Wes and I visited a friend who doesn’t have a t.v. in her house. She and her roommate amuse themselves with various activities: meeting friends for a drink, rock climbing, hiking, shopping, reading. Who knows what they do, but they don’t do it in front of a television.
Like I’ve been doing for the past 6 months.
Whenever we’re in the apartment the television is on. Even if we’re not watching it, we still turn it on for background noise. Why that’s better than music, I don’t know, but it’s something that we’ve gotten in the habit of doing. We come home from work or from the gym and we watch t.v. And each week we seem to be adding new shows to our already huge list. If we miss a show there’s the dvr, and often we find ourselves wasting hours on the weekend catching up with shows so we’ll know what happens next week. No blame laid: we both do this.
Tonight when I got home from work I sat down on the couch and immediately turned on the t.v. I couldn’t find anything better to do than to watch Joey Fatone on Ellen? Apparently not.
While I sat watching a Netflix movie that had been sitting on the bookshelf for nearly a month I thought about the rut I was in and why I hate Southern California so much. I keep saying it’s because there’s nothing to do, but in reality it’s because I don’t do anything. I have grandiose plans to cram as much of Southern California in as I can, hoping that I will at least enjoy my time here, but it doesn’t happen. And the more that I don’t do anything, the more unhappy I become. And the more unhappy I become, the less I want to do anything. See they cycle?
My life isn’t going to change just because I will it to. There is no magical cure for whatever it is I’m feeling. I have to do something about. I have to stop being a lump on a log and start getting out there and doing things. I have to commit to waking up every day and swimming. I have to commit to writing and running and climbing and reading and being a better girlfriend and friend and sister and daughter. Those things aren’t just going to happen by hoping. I have to work at them. And up until now I’ve just been sitting on my butt waiting for the change. I realized tonight that it’s not going to come to me. I have to work for it.
And the number one change is to start exercising more and cut out all of the stupid television I watch. Of the shows I like, are they so great that I have to record them so I don’t miss them? Probably not. Do I have better things to do with my time? Absolutely.
I just have to do them.