Why you procrastinating fiend...

I should be writing a paper right now. Two papers, actually, one due tomorrow and one due last month. But you know me and my lazy ways, so it should come as absolutely no surprise that I have yet to even open up Word this evening.

I've invented a new fiction about myself, and this current posting is a pitiful attempt at testing out its veracity. My theory is based off of one of Beck's posts proposing a weak "volitional scope" for humanity; i.e. we are the sum of our habits, not possessed of some universally "free" will that endows us with the ability to choose any action in any situation without any environmental or psychological constraints. The theory makes a ton of sense, and goes a long way toward answering many of my questions on the ambiguously defined and practically indefensible dogma of free will. I could go on for some time about the implications of weak volitionism from both the Christian and psychological perspectives--however, such is not my plan for this evening. Perhaps some other time, and until then you'll just have to read up on Beck and figure things out for yourselves.

What I am interested in prodding this evening is my own situationally and habitually bound behavior, as well as present for your perusal a few illusions I have been holding so dear to my heart these past weeks.

I cannot get work done at my desk. No matter my intentions, regardless of my need for accomplishment, in complete defiance of my stated purpose, when I'm seated in front of this computer my brain fogs up and my hand reaches for the button that brings up Hulu. I'm even doing it now, as I am beginning a rant centered around my own ridiculousness. I have wasted so many hours camped out in this chair with my blanket-of-love-lost pulled up to my chin that I am no longer even capable of doing otherwise. It was for this very reason that I made the effort to begin this blog, and it is for this very same reason that I have failed to make my every-other-day update goal.

Remember those days, oh so long ago, when I was starting the Child Abuse class? That Tom would not even recognize this current evolution of my self. He was so excited, so hopeful, so determined to remain on task and succeed. He was going to set aright every one of my Patterns of Failure--and he did, until ACU undermined his efforts and stole from him everything that made The Future such an exciting and promising thing. But I'm not bitter. Not even a little.

It is my goal to recapture the essence of those days. It begins with this blog, forcing myself to think and act in a manner resembling studious activity even at times where I have no official task--or, as in the case of tonight, as a warm-up before embarking upon tasks whose window of successful completion is rapidly sliding shut. My next effort will be the rearranging of my room in an (almost certainly futile) attempt to stimulate some extra neurons. However, those are just stopgaps, efforts to improve my situation that may have little to no true effect. What I really, truly, and desperately need is a complete life upheaval.

Thankfully, I am in one of the very few times in life where such an upheaval is a truly viable--and, in fact, virtually unavoidable--option.

Oh Seattle. How I desperately want to make you a reality. To start my life anew, free from the baggage of Abilene and, for the first time in my life, truly independent. Thank you, James, for your talks and encouragement tonight; I would take you with me if I could.

I believe I can work now. At least until Craig is on.