I do not have a dramatic explanation for this lapse. I have not been traveling to Antarctica. I have not been stricken with Ebola SARS. I have not been starring in a play, composing a symphony, or writing a book. I’ve barely been reading a book, for that matter. I have been sort of regularly practicing becoming a small amount less bad at playing guitar, but that isn’t exactly an all-consuming pursuit.
The thing is, once you put off doing something long enough, it is just so easy to keep on not doing it.
It’s the justifications that cause the real trouble, though—that thick layer of self-deception assuring me that slacking off is really the more responsible thing to do.
What I’m trying to say is…I don’t know. Maybe ’90s TV should stop being so enjoyable?
