During the week, I wake up at either 5:30 or 6:40 AM to go to work. It was for this reason that I found myself completely incapable of going back to sleep after I took Jenny to Union Station this morning at 5:45.
Mornings like this are always confusing for me. I absolutely relish the first couple hours of dawn. Sunsets are cool and all, but everyone sees those. I really enjoy those cool hours of solace before anybody gets up. At the same time, I am as subject to exhaustion headaches as anybody, so I wasn’t feeling 100% either.
Not feeling much motivation to sit or stand, despite being unable to resume sleeping, I decided to slump into bed and watch TV, like the Saturday mornings of my youth. Jenny and I made oatmeal chocolate chip cookies with nutella filling last night, so I happily ate one or two (or four) of those for breakfast while watching the entirety of Archer season 1. If you haven’t watched it, you really need to. It’s amazing, so long as your sense of humor extends beyond what’s found in Family Guy.
Several hours later, I worked up the motivation to finally organize all of the media files on my computer. Despite having folders specifically labeled for programs, music, games, and videos (SD/HD, TV/Movie), things had become terribly jumbled. I can tolerate certain levels of disorder, but this is one of the things that really sets off my OCD. It persisted for so long solely because I would walk away from my computer whenever it crossed my mind.
By the time things were tidy again, a shockingly large chunk of my day had already passed. I played some Dead Rising 2 and Battlefield, watched some of a Bruce documentary, and ate leftover swedish meatballs with half of a watermelon. Feeling sufficiently lardy at this point, I pulled one of my classic workout tricks: getting ready and walking out the door without thinking things through. I’ve found that the mind is incredibly good at convincing the body that it doesn’t need to work out. It will insist that your leg hurts or that it’s raining outside. The easiest way to circumvent the issue is to just zone out until you’re halfway down the block saying “Dammit, not again.”
While running along the mall, an incredibly thing nearly happened. It’s what I like to call “hoop dreamz”. It’s one of those moments that you carelessly daydream about where you do something awesome with incredible suaveness; everyone’s got at least one. For some people, it’s having to fill in for an absent musician at a show and TOTALLY nailing it. For others, it’s telling a really freaking funny joke in a large crowd of people. I’m sure you’ve all got a whole bunch.
Anyway, I was running along, probably looking awesome, when a frisbee came sailing directly into my path. I was positive that my time had come to be nonchalantly amazing; I love frisbee. I was poised to make an awesome catch and whip it back without breaking my stride. Things couldn’t have been more perfect. Then it bounced off of my hand and spun away in the dirt. My anger must have shown, because one of the people playing apologized for their errant throw. The next 2 miles were a blur of irritated thoughts and enhanced paces. It wasn’t until I had rounded the Lincoln memorial and come back up to the mall that I realized that my legs were dead and I was panting.
At least I have the consolation of knowing that the opportunity didn’t go completely wrong. Despite my drop, it wasn’t like I had fallen flat on my face. My term for those scenarios is “poop dreams”. You know, like when John Kerry tries to look athletic.
These moments are the true failures. The times when you think you’re going to look awesome but end up looking like a total idiot, usually in front of large groups of people. Thank god I avoided that fate.
To ensure that I didn’t just jinx myself, I think I’m going to spend the rest of the night in my apartment. There is a lasagna that needs to get made, a Springsteen documentary that needs finishing, and a whole boatload of terrorists who aren’t going to kill themselves on my computer. Enjoy the rest of your Saturday everyone! Happy hoop dreaming.