I have to figure out a way to keep the stress off my back. A lot of it is self imposed, self-inflicted and often, self-created. I’m a victim, except that I’m not.

When left to my own devices, I’ll invent thunderstorms and Biblical plagues to reign down upon me. I’ll steam and create and see injustice where none exists. I trust only myself and my own instincts, which more often than not, steer me to some awful conclusions.

It’s pretty cool.

Take this week, for instance. It’s been a slow, casual sort of week. A lot of the top brass at work have been on the road allowing our days to be a little shorter. With less to do there was more time for me to stroll through my tattered psyche, picking leaves of doubt from my ego trees. (?) At various times this week I have felt greatly wronged by nobody in particular. It’s not even a specific person or event, it’s just a general buzzing that starts in the back of my brain, spreads along the cerebellum and infiltrates the frontal lobes. How dare this world ask me to do stuff. Doesn’t it know I’d rather not do stuff?

(I’ve got my OWN important stuff to do.)

Getting to the Point…

Everybody has to do stuff. Stuff is how we fill our days. Without stuff, we would shrivel and die, like the muscles in a paraplegic’s legs. I need more stuff. As my Mother-In-Law says, “It’s better to be busy.” She also says I’m going to Hell, but that’s a different topic. A quiet, empty weekend will more than likely leave me feeling quiet and empty. While busier times come with the caveats of their own frustrations and exhaustion, it’s ultimately better if it keeps my wheels from spinning into the ground. So I’ve decided to embrace the insanity. There’s plenty to do, yet that which I yearn for, sitting and doing nothing, leaves me downtrodden. Lack of action breeds contempt for myself. Rather than give in to it, I’ll just avoid it.

(Look how miserable he is.)

So I’m gonna keep moving. Pile it on, I say. If the alternative is sitting and trying to forget about things I could be doing, allowing them to ruin the very act of sitting, then I shall no longer sit. I will walk, nay, I will run! (I won’t literally run. That’s just crazy talk.)

Is it better to be busy? I’ll either find out or crash and burn. Either way, it’s something to do.