Stolen from… me
I just posted the following entry to Blogspot. But I’m a good definition of ‘indecisive’ so I’m hedging my bets by posting it here too. Because I can, and I tend to do a lot of things just because I can…
It’s winter here, and I can’t decide if I’m suffering a case of winter blues, or if there’s something serious behind the endless second-guessing that I’ve been doing lately. I have a horrible suspicion I might be brewing a midlife crisis a few years early, but I’m still hoping to wake up one morning and discover that I’ve just been winding myself up.
I’ve been self-medicating with music. Rebuilt my old MP3 player – surprised to find I know how to use a screwdriver and watch a tutorial on youtube, and even more surprised that it actually works with Banshee – and have been dragging it around everywhere. The side effect of that is the Other Half never knows if I’m listening to him, or whether I’m having a fit or just dancing to something he can’t hear.
At any rate, I’ve been buying up old albums from bands that I always intended to love: Stone Temple Pilots, Soundgarden etc. I seem to running about two decades behind the rest of the planet, which is fine by me. Means I have another decade of being Bieber-free, at least.
I’m not entirely sure why I feel the need to put the same meaningless words in two different places, especially considering the book I’ve just started (Bad Faith, by Ben Elton) is a scary reminder that I should probably keep all my thoughts to myself.
Maybe I just need to know that I’m not just talking to myself.