I’m sincerely glad that something inside of me had the foresight to take yesterday off, as I spent the day in bed with severe abdominal pain that would have hindered me from any specific I’m gonnas anyway. Even if that weren’t the medical truth, my hyper-hypochondria kicked in, telling me to keep my ass in the house and rest, despite the glorious sun shining though my window.
However, I did get one unexpected gonna done: I finished “Clapton,” which was a miracle bestowed upon me by the gods of reading themselves. Eric, I love you, but the first 100 pages of an autobiography should not make me want to stare at a wall for an hour in hopes of better entertainment. I forgive you since you penned those last 228 pages with a heartbeat instead of a flatline.
Saturday was also a day of truth-finding, not outwardly, but within myself. I’ve found that this whole do-what-you-say-you-will thing has made me a force to be reckoned with. I have lost the ability to stay within the social constraints of “manners” if I feel like someone is being a grade-A douchebag. I have found it impossible to stay quiet around purposeful stupidity or intolerance. I have lost the ability to lie, as well as to accept that kind of verbal deception from anyone else.
I’d have to say… not too shabby for a week old project. I want you all to experience this same kind of personal growth, or whatever the hell I’ll end up calling it by the time I’ve reached my self-set self actualization. I’ll figure out how to bring you along, just gimme time to work it out. It won’t be long before we’re high-fiving about how we’re finally contributing members of society.
Today, I’m gonna: do menial chores around the apartment, and, at long last, go sort some stuff in my storage unit.
P.S. Props to mi madre for keeping me sane during my hours of pain and I’m-gonna-dieness. She’s a hip, hip lady.