I'm writing this having not just come home from seeing the Soft Boys at Double Door, and I think I'm okay with that. On the one hand, it would have been a good show to check out, but on the other, it was only me who "suffered" by not going, and it's not like I never go out, or go out to see live music, to be more specific and perhaps somewhat more emphatic about making my point.

This suddenly seems like an issue, though, because it wound up being the case for the lion's share of the last several days. Am I being unmotivated? Depressed? Bored? Fiscally conservative? Yes, no, yes, and a little, I guess. I'm as prone to gaps in motivation as the next guy, and if I've learned anything in 32 years and change, it's when you don't want to do something, and you have a choice, just don't do it (Nancy Reagan must be turning in her grave. Or, she would be if she were in her grave, seeing as how she's not dead yet. She'd be tossing and turning, and probably trying to get someone to help her out, because I would assume being buried alive isn't very much fun. Playing "literal interpretation exploited for comedic gain," however, is a hoot). And it may seem like it, but I'm not advocating the slacker lifestyle, either. I've just noticed that sometimes I'll start trying to make up excuses not to do something, or rationalize why I don't have to do something, and if I'm devoting that kind of mental resource to avoiding something, I should just be done with it. Especially when it's particularly inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. It's not like I'm putting off finding a job or anything like that. That's not getting done entirely of its own accord.

So the long and short of it is, I feel like I need to defend a couple nights of becoming one with my couch, but why? Who cares? I watched a whole lot of TV tonight, and I'm not afraid to say it. I'm allowed to slow down once in a while.