the formula

So here it is, I'm finally laying it down here, my personal curse, the hole I fall into time and time again, the perfect formula to make my time, irreplaceable spans of my life, as meaningless as possible. 

Ready?  I'm excited for this.

1.  No working allowed. 
That's kind of an obvious one, I know, but it's the foundation.  I'm supposed to be working, there is a mental block that causes physical pain when my mind even wanders in that direction, so avoid those unpleasant electric shocks and do not do any work, at all costs.

2.  Do not engage in personally productive activities.
Need to do laundry?  Maybe I should work on that screenplay?  Want to practice on my guitar?  Cat meowing at me to change the litter?  Fuck all that.  How dare I engage in such activities when I'm supposed to be working!?

3.  Do not have fun.
Play a video game?  Watch a movie?  Read a book?  You lazy thief!  You fucking thief, you're getting paid to do a job.  Asshole, how dare you even think of doing that shit, if you need to blow a day on bullshit, at least be honest, plan ahead, and use up one of your precious vacation days.

So if I can't work (pain), can't be productive otherwise (guilt), and am not allowed to have fun (shit-tons of guilt), what do I end up doing all day?

[As a kid, did you ever catch that movie with Richard Pryor, I think it was called Brewster's Millions, or something like that.  For whatever reason, he needed to spend something like thirty million dollars in thirty days and he wasn't allowed to have anything to show for it at the end.]

I do things that are in that sweet spot (or dead zone, if you like).  Things that are not productive in any way, not really fun at all, but not painful either.  I check the news a lot.  I have a whole list of different websites that I check, and they all get updated throughout the day, so once I get to the end, I can usually just start from the beginning again and see new content.  I see what the Amazon gold box deals of the day are, even though I've never once purchased a gold box deal.  Maybe I kill five minutes with Minesweeper (specifically designed to kill time while not being fun).  Balance the checkbook, maybe pay some bills.  Go upstairs, see if the mail has come, even though it's only 1:30pm and I know the mail never comes before 3pm.  Read all of my junk mail and e-mail.  Check the news sites again.

And then it's the end of the day.  I've done nothing.  I've done no work.  I've had no fun.  I've not improved myself in any way, I have not accomplished a single task around the house.  Just... nothing.

This is the hole I keep finding myself in.  It sounds so stupid.  So fucking stupid.  I know it does.  I can feel Jon wanting to smack me because I'm so damned stupid, and I don't deny that I deserve a brutal beating, a vicious, how-dare-you-squander-your-life, how-dare-you-spit-on-every-blessing-in-your-life kind of beating.  My self-analysis only gets me this far, though.  I've yet to figure out a way to break out of this paralysis. 

Sometimes, rarely, sheer will-power will do the trick. 

Oftentimes, it's an impending deadline that is imminently approaching and a fire will light and I will burn, hot and bright, breaking through rule number one, and I will rip out a massive amount of work in a short period of time before flaming out again, somehow managing to keep my employer happy and none-the-wiser to my fucked up time management. 

Sometimes I say screw it, fuck it all, and just throw my conscience out the window and do something totally, selfishly fun, breaking the third rule.  Most times, I just end up back where I started, but with renewed self-loathing.  If I'm lucky, though, I end up feeling rejuvenated and am then able to work again, without pain, and I'm out of the hole for awhile.

I've noticed my diet can play a part.  No caffeine and a big, fat donut for breakfast is usually bad news.  A bit of gas-station purchased starbucks frappuccino and an egg mcmuffin (protein!) and I've got slightly better odds of not being trapped in the hole.

Even the self-analysis is probably really stupid.  Every problem I've ever experienced in my life, my knee-jerk reaction is to think long and hard about what a horrible person I am and closely examine every monumental flaw in my character.  Perhaps the reality is as simple is getting the basics of self-preservation in order - diet, exercise, and sleep. 

But then I cackle at the absurdity of such a thing.  Surely, I am a horrible person, my horribleness is the root of all, and I will continue to be horrible.  Do I really think eating more vegetables will hide my horribleness?  Hurray for me, gasping through a quarter mile walk, do I really think I can hide behind that?  Hitler pet a dog now and then and, word is, he wasn't a real great guy. 

No, I'm fucking horrible, I'm either lazy or something worse than lazy... defective at some fundamental level, that's the only explanation, right?  Or is that just the best excuse I can come up with?  Is it pathetic how pathetic I think I am and how I'm trying to use that as a poor-me excuse to not do shit?  Meta-pathetic.  Like the blog post about blog posts, metablog, futile and stupid.  I'm just going in circles with this, putting new labels on the same thing, finding new excuses for the same predicament. 

This is going nowhere, I keep trying to find words to wrap a bow on this bitch, and they're not coming, I just keep coming back to me being an asshole and doubly being an asshole for using inherent-assholeness as my reason and excuse, and then it all circles back again.