I’ve come to a point in my life where it’s hard to strike a balance between work and life. I feel uncomfortable if I spend any time not working toward something – any moment spent watching television, listening to music, or chewing thoroughly feels like I have my hand in somebody’s pocket. I used to be able to wile away hours playing video games or staring at the wall, but that makes me feel really guilty now. I actually like to work, which is bizarre to say. I guess there are worse things to be afflicted with, but it troubles me sometimes.
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Well, I couldn’t seem to think of anything particularly interesting to write about the remainder of my Chicago trip. It was a lot of fun, but I doubt anybody cares to hear the intimate details of drama-less pant-buying ventures and enjoyably trauma-less dining experiences. So I’ll just skip ahead to the present.
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The holidays are all about spirit and attitude. There are about 8,700 evils you can find in the concept of Christmas, depending on your particular view of the world. This time of year isn’t perfect for anybody, and in fact it’s probably tougher for most people than the 50 or so other weeks of the year. If you’re a hardline Santa hater or maniac decorator, things are bound to crumble at some point. But if you just appreciate being alive and simply surviving to see another A Christmas Story marathon, avoiding the death and insanity of traffic jams, coffee spills, rude waiters, etc., you really get a lot more out of the season, I think. And I only say all of this because coming out of the near brush with death of my last entry turned out to be the perfect holiday mood-setter.
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