(no subject)

About fifteen minutes ago, I realized that there were hunger pangs lancing through my stomach. This was not entirely surprising, since my last meal had been some hours ago and the rest of the day's culinary repast consisted mostly of potato chips and a SlimFast shake. Once the discomfort emanating from my stomach overcame the inertia inherent in lying on a Sealy Posturepedic Pillowtop mattress (no small feat, especially when the subject is somewhat tired...) I ventured forth into the kitchen to forage for some means of sustenance.

Bah, if I keep on like this, the entry's going to keep me all night. To summarize:

I decided to cook some pasta, and went hunting through the cupboards to see if there was anything to go on top. Nothing easily cookable being apparent, I went back to my original plan of pasta + butter + garlic. However, while in the final stages of preparation, I realized that there were the base ingredients for a perfectly decent spaghetti topping - canned tomatoes, turkey sausage (spiced, no less), italian seasoning, garlic. It probably wouldn't even have taken me that much longer to cook it up, and the pasta would have been a heckuva lot less bland.

And yet I couldn't seem to muster up the motivation to whip them together and have myself a decent meal.

---

I've never been a big one for schoolwork, but as anyone who knows the history of my first semester in college can see, I've come a long way - at least now, I usually get it done. However, most of the time I can't seem to do it earlier than a day before it's due (a few days, if it's a long paper or some such). Sometimes it'll be because I'm too busy with other things, but even when I have nothing to do -- literally nothing except waste time on the Internet or sleep -- and I keep thinking to myself how nice it would be to not have to worry about homework this weekend, I can't seem to bring myself to do it. Oftentimes I *have* gone to sleep simply to avoid doing something so I can stress about it later - or not stress by "forgetting" it until the last minute. Even things I enjoy, such as singing, I don't do unless the mood strikes me - or unless it's the morning before my next music lesson. More than once I've been intending to write something down in this blog, something I'm sure I'll forget about in a few months that I'd like to remind myself about, and then...I won't do it.

---

Often, I'll start a project with great enthusiasm. When I was younger, I took up knitting, quilting, sewing, weaving, embroidery, and any number of other handicrafts; sometimes I would even finish small projects before I stopped doing it. I would begin playing epic RPGs like Final Fantasy VII and Chrono Trigger, but I'd only finish one out of maybe every four or five that I started. I still pick things back up on occasion -- last summer I went on a bit of a Chrono Cross binge, and last fall I was doing quite a bit of sewing -- but in the end, I lost interest, as I always seem to do.

---

Approximately twelve hours from now, auditions for the new season of Perseverance Theatre will be taking place. The requirements are 1-2 minute monologe and (if you're a singer) 16 bars from a musical or opera. Both of these I can fill with little-to-no effort - I already know several songs from musicals, and I just so happen to have a monologue memorized from my final acting class project. While I wasn't intending on participating in theatre this next year, it's perfectly possible that I could do so, and the theatre has a really fun musical lined up for the season - Hair. And even if I don't want a part, it's still a good idea for me to attend, given my hope of an acting career - the more audition experience, the better.

And yet I find myself wishing I could "forget" to go and do something safe instead, like go grocery shopping with Brian or read a book. As much as I love acting and singing, and as fun as it would be to get the chance to do both, I really feel more like hiding at the moment.

---

It struck me today that all these instances are connected somehow. They may have a common undercurrent of fear to them, but fear of what? It's pretty obvious in the theatre context, but so far as I know I have no particular paranoia of spaghetti sauces. I think a better classification lies in the fact that they're all things that enrich my life somehow - by being productive, by pursuing my dream, by nourishing myself - that I just don't do that often. But the question still remains - why? What is it that I'm afraid of? Why am I so afraid to go the extra few yards to make my life that much richer? Especially when I really love nice things?

What, exactly, is up with me?

(no subject)

About fifteen minutes ago, I realized that there were hunger pangs lancing through my stomach. This was not entirely surprising, since my last meal had been some hours ago and the rest of the day's culinary repast consisted mostly of potato chips and a SlimFast shake. Once the discomfort emanating from my stomach overcame the inertia inherent in lying on a Sealy Posturepedic Pillowtop mattress (no small feat, especially when the subject is somewhat tired...) I ventured forth into the kitchen to forage for some means of sustenance.

Bah, if I keep on like this, the entry's going to keep me all night. To summarize:

I decided to cook some pasta, and went hunting through the cupboards to see if there was anything to go on top. Nothing easily cookable being apparent, I went back to my original plan of pasta + butter + garlic. However, while in the final stages of preparation, I realized that there were the base ingredients for a perfectly decent spaghetti topping - canned tomatoes, turkey sausage (spiced, no less), italian seasoning, garlic. It probably wouldn't even have taken me that much longer to cook it up, and the pasta would have been a heckuva lot less bland.

And yet I couldn't seem to muster up the motivation to whip them together and have myself a decent meal.

---

I've never been a big one for schoolwork, but as anyone who knows the history of my first semester in college can see, I've come a long way - at least now, I usually get it done. However, most of the time I can't seem to do it earlier than a day before it's due (a few days, if it's a long paper or some such). Sometimes it'll be because I'm too busy with other things, but even when I have nothing to do -- literally nothing except waste time on the Internet or sleep -- and I keep thinking to myself how nice it would be to not have to worry about homework this weekend, I can't seem to bring myself to do it. Oftentimes I *have* gone to sleep simply to avoid doing something so I can stress about it later - or not stress by "forgetting" it until the last minute. Even things I enjoy, such as singing, I don't do unless the mood strikes me - or unless it's the morning before my next music lesson. More than once I've been intending to write something down in this blog, something I'm sure I'll forget about in a few months that I'd like to remind myself about, and then...I won't do it.

---

Often, I'll start a project with great enthusiasm. When I was younger, I took up knitting, quilting, sewing, weaving, embroidery, and any number of other handicrafts; sometimes I would even finish small projects before I stopped doing it. I would begin playing epic RPGs like Final Fantasy VII and Chrono Trigger, but I'd only finish one out of maybe every four or five that I started. I still pick things back up on occasion -- last summer I went on a bit of a Chrono Cross binge, and last fall I was doing quite a bit of sewing -- but in the end, I lost interest, as I always seem to do.

---

Approximately twelve hours from now, auditions for the new season of Perseverance Theatre will be taking place. The requirements are 1-2 minute monologe and (if you're a singer) 16 bars from a musical or opera. Both of these I can fill with little-to-no effort - I already know several songs from musicals, and I just so happen to have a monologue memorized from my final acting class project. While I wasn't intending on participating in theatre this next year, it's perfectly possible that I could do so, and the theatre has a really fun musical lined up for the season - Hair. And even if I don't want a part, it's still a good idea for me to attend, given my hope of an acting career - the more audition experience, the better.

And yet I find myself wishing I could "forget" to go and do something safe instead, like go grocery shopping with Brian or read a book. As much as I love acting and singing, and as fun as it would be to get the chance to do both, I really feel more like hiding at the moment.

---

It struck me today that all these instances are connected somehow. They may have a common undercurrent of fear to them, but fear of what? It's pretty obvious in the theatre context, but so far as I know I have no particular paranoia of spaghetti sauces. I think a better classification lies in the fact that they're all things that enrich my life somehow - by being productive, by pursuing my dream, by nourishing myself - that I just don't do that often. But the question still remains - why? What is it that I'm afraid of? Why am I so afraid to go the extra few yards to make my life that much richer? Especially when I really love nice things?

What, exactly, is up with me?