Rotting My Brain

Because we had so much schoolwork to deal with this week, I decided we should institute a TV-ban during the evenings and Stephanie and I have held to that agreement all week. Tonight though, with Stef at class and with tiredness overwhelming me, I broke the pact and plopped on the couch in front of the boob tube. If I had tried to read I would have fallen asleep anyway, so I allowed myself the luxury of rotting my brain. And it was good. It was very good.

I didn’t watch anything of quality either. I caught the premiere of the new Survivor, a show I really loathe and have hardly ever watched, and when commercials came on I flipped back and forth between a repeat of last season’s finale of Friends and WWE Smackdown. I had to make up for three days of not rotting my brain at all. You must understand.

You do understand, don’t you?

I’ve done a lot of writing and reading this week and I’ve got a weekend-intensive class beginning tomorrow evening. I needed to relax for a bit. I needed to kick back. Hell, I even signed up for a gym membership today and finished draft 2.0 of “The One About Ian.” I’ve done a lot.

There’s no way I’m going to make it Monday without a nervous breakdown and there’s no way I’m going to make it through to next weekend fast enough. I need a good, honest break and that’s a while off yet. So, for now, I bid you adieu.