Dear Lack of Motivation

Dear Lack of Motivation,

I know I see you nearly every day (and multiple times within those days), but I just felt like I should send you a letter. I mean, EVERYBODY appreciates getting a real piece of mail from time to time - even Lack of Motivation.

Actually, writing this letter right now feels a little awkward, since you're right here with me as I write. I know it's rude to ignore company like that, but I hope you understand that I've set a goal to do this blog thing every day, and I'm trying to see it through, whether you're here or not. And I know for sure that there's going to be some day in the (probably near) future when you convince me to just skip it for a day, but I just started this thing, and I have about one or two loyal readers that I don't want to disappoint yet (although they should be getting bored of this sometime soon).

But don't worry, I am pretty sure that within the week Nobody will be reading this at all (at which point I should write a letter to her), and then I'm going to be much more likely to hang out with you. And it's not like this blog is the only thing that makes me think of you. We've still got painting, writing stories, making my graphic novel, exercising, biking, going out, socializing, cooking, getting out of bed, running errands, paying my bills, washing my car, taking a walk, staying in touch with long-lost friends, planning for my classes, writing/recording music, performing, committing to future events/activities/jobs, earning real money, growing up, writing letters, trying something new, meeting people, shaving, brushing my teeth, flossing, buying new clothes, asking for help, actively DOING something instead of just complaining, and washing my clothes to spend time together.

And there's probably more.

The truth is this, Lack of Motivation: I'm a lazy LAZY man at heart. I know it sometimes seems like I'm doing things and being productive from the outside, but it's all a farce. I have to set myself up long in advance (being aware of my naturally lazy state), so that I have no choice but to be a little bit productive. For example, I pay money to join a football league. That makes me committed to exercising at least once a week. I enroll in a graphic novel class (although that was really only because Anya got me in for free), so that I'm committed to doing the homework assignments. I used to not have a car, so that biking was my fastest way to get to school and around town (but now I have a car, so we'll see).

There are plenty of other ways that I trick myself into appearing less lazy, but don't think for an instant that that's reality. If I allowed myself to revert to my natural state for the rest of my years, I would be a fat hermit who only ate salami sandwiches and cereal. I would never get out of bed, and I would make full use of the fact that you can get absolutely EVERYTHING you need via the internet. I would only text people (another reason I have no cell phone), so I wouldn't have to commit to a full conversation. I would probably die from some sort of self-neglect within the year.

So that's why we see each other so often, my friend. And that's why I sometimes so rudely ignore you when you come to visit. It's not that I don't enjoy your company (in fact, I often secretly relish your presence in a darkness-is-cool sort of way) - I just want to live longer than a year. Not because I have things I want to do, necessarily, but because I seriously doubt I'd be allowed to be so stagnant in the afterlife.

Does this make things a little clearer? Do you understand now? I hope so, because we're going to continue to see a lot of each other, and I don't want things to be awkward. Let me know what you think tomorrow morning when my alarm wakes me up.

BFF,
CVT