Tasks are pretty much all that I have right now. You have tasks too, of course. We all have tasks, alright because if we didn't have tasks our lives would be pointless. But why does it seem to me that my life has become too much about these tasks already? I am a real person and I obviously have my own daily regular life. We have day jobs and school, and homework, meetings, special projects, awkward old-acquaintances gatherings, quasi-parties, Sunday sermons and ice cream stands to attend to. It is a normal life that is now occupied by too much homework that is taking over to the point that the idea of blogging comes to me as something that would be totally irresponsible of me. Blogging takes a lot of time, dedication and creativity. It's actually harder than most people think. Deciding what to write about alone takes thirty minutes to one hour. Well, I'm not really sure if that goes for everyone else. I didn't bother to do any form of research on this. I tried to convince myself that I would do a survey, but I didn't because I couldn't convince myself. I argued really hard, but I was stubborn. So there are no statistics; this is just me saying I'm a terribly slow doer and so I assume everyone else is, too, because you know I want to convince myself I'm a normal person.
That is one debate with myself I'm hoping not to lose.
I was doing my problem sets one night and I couldn't concentrate because I had these flash thoughts of my blog and how I used to totally ignore it. I was telling myself that I really wanted to blog that time, but then again I wasn't able to convince myself to, because I still couldn't answer number one on my homework for Pete's sake! Why would I have this thought of going online to blog, and let it fill my mind, when I still had those papers in front of me, especially that one blank page of two items I still had not answered? And I knew there's a bunch of other things lined up.
It could be the thought of taking a break. I was able to answer the rest of my problem set at that point. I was having trouble with only two more items, i.e. items 1c and 1d, so I was thinking like now that I had finished 80% of my homework and since I couldn't seem to fathom a way to get around the two remaining questions, why not just get a time off and get my attention away from the thing that's giving me migraine and have fun, say, blogging? But then I asked myself, why would I blog first? Why take a break already when there's this important thing I had started that I still had not yet finished?
And blogging, as it turned out to me that time, is also quite a task. A tiring task that is something I worry about. I have no idea how this happened. When I started blogging I was happy and proud that I have my own space on the internet where I get to write and interact with a lot of new people. I wrote a lot of cool stuff spontaneously, regularly. I worked on designing my blog excitedly. I was being creative and happy about it all. I was being one energetic bunny.
But then what happened?
Thinking about this, my worries, my homework, my tasks, I picked up the fact that I was sixteen when I started my blog, and now I'm eighteen. I am no longer that guy who is just always having a fun time whatever he's doing, whether it's school-related or blogging. Why do I now find it harder to be pleased by these two activities? I don't know. Am I getting old? Am I getting boring? Am I making myself look like a fool by asking these stupid questions? Is this what being an adult feels like? Do you just worry about lots of insane random crap?
I am a guy who seems to worry about his life constantly, worrying about his homework, about other people's expectations, his future, and even about his blog. And I don't feel good about that. Why? Why should I worry? What good does it do? I know I have responsibilities and everything, but thinking about it all the time doesn't really accomplish anything. I know it's making me self-aware but it's also making me feel miserable. I am young and I should have fun.
I am ready not to give a flying crap about anything anymore.