Happens to the best of us, right?

I don't usually procrastinate, but when I do, it quickly assumes paralytic proportions.  

For example, this morning.  I promised myself I would go on a hike today (actually, yesterday, but I successfully put it off until today).  Except I don't really feel like it. I know I should (gotta lose the gut) but it really seems like all kinds of more effort than I really want to make (which, yes, rather does explain the presence of the gut in the first place).  

I thought, "Well, I should have breakfast."  But I didn't want to take a shower because I'd be all sweaty and in need of showering after the hike.  So that meant I couldn't wear fresh clothes (because that feels kinda gross). So I'm wearing yesterday's clothes.  

I made breakfast and ate it, and then cleaned up after myself, which was a wonderful way to knock off a few hours.  But now I'm done with that and need further excuses to not go hiking. 

One of them is, I do need to do laundry. Except I'm still wearing last night's clothes (stripy club-slash-party shirt included), which I also need to get clean.  But if I did that I'd have to change, which would mean I'd have to shower, which I don't want to do because of the hike I don't want to go on.  

So instead I'm writing this blog. 

Footnote:

Incidentally last night ended up being fun.  The day was boring (though reasonably productive) and finally around eleven I decided I needed to get out of the house and I really wanted a beer (I haven't been drinking much alcohol lately).  Walked to a place I'd driven past, but it was closed.  Didn't want to hit the biker bar that was much closer to home.  Ended up calling a cab that took like half an hour to get there. The cab driver was an ass and with the tip cost me $15, kind of a fucking rip-off.  But the place I went, a tiny establishment frequented by mostly stoner-punker types and their large-breasted girlfriends (maybe weed attracts large breasts, like magnetism? Someone should do a study).  I very quickly found myself talking to one of the few normal-looking people there, a very sweet young lady named Gina. Shortly thereafter met her boyfriend Justino.  They were there with the band that had just wrapped up when I'd arrived.  Another band came on. They were pretty good, for punk. I did have to turn my hearing aid off, however.  

Who says footnotes can't be more than one paragraph?  After last call, rather than getting a cab I got a ride with Gina and Justino, for which they have mucho gratitude from me.  I gave Justino the remaining six bucks cash I had in my wallet, for the gas. It was a much better deal than asshole cabbie ripoff.  

Odd how I used to think it was hard to make friends. True, alcohol makes fast bonds, but it doesn't seem to be a factor, since no alcohol was present in other recent cases. I have noticed however that regardless of whether my religious affiliation comes up (and it usually doesn't), non-Scientologists are more impressed by me than Scientologists.  Hmmmm. That's kinda fucked, but understandable as well.  And now I'm just rambling. 

I really should go take a shower.