Streaky

I've noticed I'll get in these moods where I'm like, "You know, I should really write more. I'm going to make it a point to make sure I spend at least 10 minutes writing something, anything, before I go to bed each night."

And that sounds all good and well, but then the part of my brain that can't commit to simple projects starts firing off other ideas. "You should also start going to the gym every day. If you just made it a part of your morning routine, you wouldn't miss that little bit of sleep and think how healthy you'd be!"

From there, it spirals out of control.

"Speaking of healthy, you should really start eating more vegetables. At least five servings of fruit and veggies a day. And making your food at home! That would be healthy and save money."

Then I feel compelled to start thinking about other things, like how I should really vacuum more than once a season, and how it really isn't a very wise to just always drop off my laundry at the laundromat and buy my coffee at the deli, even if it is only 80 cents a cup, I should really just start making it at home. Or not drinking it at all. Yeah, no more coffee! No soda, either! I should shop at the farmer's market, too, with reusable bags I brought from home. But there really isn't a farmer's market in our neighborhood and I really hate having to schlep all those groceries home from Union Square or whatever. Maybe I should find a new apartment, one that isn't small but somehow, costs less. Ugh, I will never be able to afford home ownership. Or even a dog. Hmm, I want a dog. If I got a dog, it could be super awesome, and I could write a book about it and how it was awesome and eventually dies in a heartbreaking way, and it will become a MEGA bestseller because everyone loves a good dog story. Yes, I'll write that.

But then I start thinking about how much I have to do and how totally exhausting it all will be and instead I play another game of Spider Solitaire.