So lately I have been quasi-obsessively binge-watching television shows on Netflix (etc.). The most recent has been Community which, after watching all five seasons in the last week and a half, could very well be my new favorite sitcom. It has been a somewhat tragic experience since I knew all along that there were only five seasons, but just now as I was writing this post I looked it up on Wikipedia and discovered that Yahoo! Screen (of all things) has picked it up for a sixth season (#sixseasonsandamovie). A modicum of faith in humanity restored.
What I'm getting at, though, is that my escapist nature has been at its finest. Writing? Resolutions for 2014? No idea what you're talking about. Heck, even my most attainable resolution, getting my passport, has been actively deferred. I mean if I'm going to have to carry around that picture for ten years I want it to look damn good! I kept thinking -- just a little more time at the gym. Almost there. Nope, my cheeks are still too chubby -- one more month. So now I've spent way too much on Christmas and this new computer that I'm currently building, and the extra hundred bucks to get a passport is both daunting and a relief (one more month!...).
To be fair, I have been writing some. Not nearly as much as I want to or should do if I ever want to write my way out of here, but I was able to take off work for my annual writing holiday (October 24th -- it's too nerdy of an explanation) and I've made some solid progress on this damn outline for novel that I've been working on for, oh, about TEN YEARS. Grrr.
Nothing happening on the whole quest to not die alone. Well, mostly nothing. There is a super-faint spark of hope on the horizon, but it's flickering like crazy lately and he seems hell-bent on this pseudo-self-destructive path of letting it die out in favor of -- I don't know what -- video games? Surely it's not my fault. I'm wonderful.
And I've just remembered why I don't blog anymore.