I have so many things on my mind that it's hard to relax. That's not usually a problem I have. I don't have issues with lazing on the couch until my back hurts. I really don't. I just reshuffle.
Well, as long as my brain isn't over-analysing everything. That's what it does when it's time to go to bed.
The funny thing is I obsess about stuff that would give other people basis to say yupp, he's gone bonkers. It's sort of a first-world-problem thing, I guess.
What if I get this flight instead of that one?
These three-for-ten-dollars corn chips are a bargain, but I like the other ones more.
It's embarrassing when I realise it and it makes me dislike myself. Why am I spending my time thinking about that?
Of course, it's really hard to talk to people about it, when they're struggling with hospitals and mortgages and shitty families. I just feel like a giant douchebag.
What is it they say – an idle mind is the devil's playground? Well, why the hell is mine like that? It's not idle – that's for sure. It's even worse, because instead of rethinking important stuff, it's struggling to solve trivial things.
I need to sort things out with people, let them know how I feel and what I think, and thus make sure I have less grey hair and fewer stomach cramps in the future. I need to tell people what I find utterly unacceptable and why I think I have a reason to get annoyed. I should chop down my Facebook friends list from 550 to 50, and make sure I surround myself with people I have respect for and who make me grin when I think of them.
And the only thing on my mind is how many extra frequent flyer miles is that?
Well, as long as my brain isn't over-analysing everything. That's what it does when it's time to go to bed.
The funny thing is I obsess about stuff that would give other people basis to say yupp, he's gone bonkers. It's sort of a first-world-problem thing, I guess.
What if I get this flight instead of that one?
These three-for-ten-dollars corn chips are a bargain, but I like the other ones more.
It's embarrassing when I realise it and it makes me dislike myself. Why am I spending my time thinking about that?
Of course, it's really hard to talk to people about it, when they're struggling with hospitals and mortgages and shitty families. I just feel like a giant douchebag.
What is it they say – an idle mind is the devil's playground? Well, why the hell is mine like that? It's not idle – that's for sure. It's even worse, because instead of rethinking important stuff, it's struggling to solve trivial things.
I need to sort things out with people, let them know how I feel and what I think, and thus make sure I have less grey hair and fewer stomach cramps in the future. I need to tell people what I find utterly unacceptable and why I think I have a reason to get annoyed. I should chop down my Facebook friends list from 550 to 50, and make sure I surround myself with people I have respect for and who make me grin when I think of them.
And the only thing on my mind is how many extra frequent flyer miles is that?
