There’s a ton of great ideas out there.
Ideas to better yourself as a human being, to make you healthier, more motivated, more creative, more beautiful.
All these ideas sound great, until it comes time to do them.
Everyone’s on a health kick. The internet has even managed to make salad sound like a decent and possibly yummy idea, and a great alternative to my usual [cookies, candy, chips, pre-meal snack].
I imagine myself eating a salad. If bunnies can do it, I can too!
But there are weird salads out there. Salads with chunks of bleu cheese, and strawberries, and nuts, and dried fruit, and I just. .
I can’t do that to myself.
Getting up early and completing all my tasks before 12pm, on the weekends.
It’s one big lie.
Write prose in a coffee shop.
I can enjoy the peaceful atmosphere where no one trips on my laptop cable.
The only distraction will be the one that erupts in me a Eureka! moment, compelling me to write an award-winning novel.
Besides that, no screaming kids. Or annoying indie songs that get stuck in my head.
Just me and my laptop and my creativity.
Making my bed.
What’s the point?
This has been the leading cause of mental disorders and emotional breakdowns since the beginning of time.
They sound relaxing. But, seriously. Who’s cleaning the tub after I use the rainbow-swirl bath bomb? Not me.
Going to the gym every day.
Writing posts in advance.
Like, I wish I wrote this in advance. Because then I wouldn’t be up at 2:16am.
I love myself.
Thanks for reading!