A Return from Paradise

Why is it that everytime I return from a weekend in San Francisco I feel so empty. Well, I guess that's a pretty rethorical question, now that I think about it. But really! I drive down there, I see a number of old friends, which I did do this time and I come back to Tuolumne County feeling completely empty.

I know my time up here is “God’s Country” is limited. I also know I’m a time bomb waiting to explode, which is not good. And, I also know that it is very difficult to get me motivated to do things. Yes, it’s true. I would rather lay on my bed, nappping than cleaning out Dad’s closet. Although, I guess anyone would rather do that. I guess it’s just that I know a number of things I could do now to make later, or whenever easier. It’s just that I don’t.

I suppose I should make a list of everything that needs to be done and just work down it. Period. End of story, but that seems so easy. I think I would much rather procrastinate and put it off until the very last minute. My nature?

Yeah, I guess it my nature, but it might be human nature too. I can only hope so and thereby redeem myself of being quite so odd.

I don’t know. I need to figure this one out though.