Conflicted

Hi. What’s up? I’m good, thanks. You? I’m a little delirious, which is pretty normal. What’s up?

I’ve been working a lot lately. OK, maybe not that much, but a lot. Fifteen hours this weekend. Yes, of course I calculate that kind of stuff. How would I effectively complain about it otherwise?

I complain a lot. I don’t think I’m that annoying. Just a little. Ever since I joined the workforce, I complained about having to be a part of it. This weekend, I was telling Matt how I can’t wait to be a stay-at-home and he’s like a stay-at-home what? And I’m like, oh I don’t know. Just a stay-at-home. And he’s like THERE’S NO SUCH THING.

I realized my problem. I’m a slacker and an overachiever bottled into one. In my head, I want to do everything (and my desires are fierce), but when everything is laid out in front of me, I want to do nothing. It’s pretty sad, this slacker-achiever existence of mine.

But somehow, I know that the achiever part of me will always win this great battle. No matter how much I strive to live the life of leisure I’ve always dreamed of (wake up. do bar method. maybe write in the blog. maybe try to cook something. nap.), I’ll always get these random impulses to do unleisurely things, like, say, become the editor of a magazine. These impulses have occurred throughout my life and I just can’t stop them. It is a curse, yes, but it’s also one of my greatest blessings.