So many things I mean to do, so many good intentions—and they all seem to sort of fall away.

I mean, not really, but sort of. I have a list of things to do in my head that keeps growing, but instead of dutifully doing these things when the opportunity presents itself, I slough it off for now, put it aside and avoid responsibilty. I don't want to deal with things. A lot of things. I don't even want to get into it and that's rather unlike me—I like whining. Except when I don't even want to think about it at all.

There is a pile of emails sitting in my inbox that I have told myself that no more than 24 hours from now, there should be replies, written and sent. I have birthdays to buy cards for that need to be sent to friends who are too far away. I have distances to span so they don't grow. And they do feel pretty distant, it seems.

I feel a bit like I've been sentenced to purgatory for the summer. Not that school is heaven, but comparitively speaking, I suppose, the metaphor works. It wouldn't be fair to call this hell—it's not that bad and it's only temporary. It's gone by faster than I'd expected, actually. Six weeks left.

I think that's a problem lately, actually. Time. For the first eighteen years of my life or so, time seemed to move relatively slowly. I mean, sure, there were moments I'd look back and realize 'Wow, that was a lot longer ago than it seemed, things went by fast there...' But not on the scale that the last year did.

The past year, time somehow picked up momentum or something, I'm not sure. Maybe this is what happens after you become legally an adult—the weight of your time speeds you along faster. Orientation turned to classes, first semester turned to second, with faces and events and strange memories mixed in along the way while the seasons changed several times.

I don't know, but all this time moving so fast, it leaves very little space for my avoidance.

And still, I shirk responsibility and obligations. At least, the less necessary ones. The things that I need to do, but don't have to. The phone calls and emails and updates and so on. Days drift into weeks and somehow, I find myself caught up in doing nothing.

(Well, that is, if working 65 hours a week is nothing. And I wouldn't necessarily go that far.)

I'm not sure what I was trying to say, exactly. Just that I've been meaning to do things—here, and beyond, blah, blah blah, and I haven't. And I'm working on that.

Funny how I can write paragraphs and paragraphs and still say nothing.

[07:19 PM EST] [2]