Oh joy - it's Monday, the day that sparks off the oh-so-predictable weekly sequence of events. For me anyway. Life is sometimes painfully consistent, though that isn't necessarily a bad thing; it depicts some form of stability.
But I sometimes wonder whether I'm losing the edge. I used to be down for whatever, whenever, however. I'd do something different every day, be out there doing Lord-knows-what. The entire East Coast was my playground; could almost drive up and down the 9-5 blindfolded, and even knew the spots five-oh haunted. I'd do things that sometimes got me in trouble; stupid stuff, but fun stuff nonetheless. I'd do anything for excitement, even ridiculous things like driving all the way from VA to Philadelphia, to Pat's specifically, just to get a genuine Philly Cheesesteak, then drive right back to VA. I was tenacious at basketball, damn near breaking limbs and ripping fingernails off. And I would do so much more, so much.
Not any more. I get up, go to work, go to school, then go back to the crib. Every day is a virtual replica of the former. I go out to places the occasional weekend, but even those excursions are now few and far between. It's almost as though I want to stay put at home and you know what, that does it.
Starting today, I will make a conscious effort to do something different every day. I can't go down like that, hell to the naw. Homie don't play dat. No one will ever again accuse me of not wanting to do stuff. Call me David Livingstone starting today, coz I'm about to explore this b*tch for all it's worth.
As D constantly reminds me, I'm 30 years old, damnit. [She even calls me 'Pops' - the nerve!] I need to start taking care of myself, which I haven't done in years. Starting today I'm going on detox like Udi - no alcohol for a long minute. I will establish regular sleeping patterns, stop eating junk food, and slowly ease my way back to the cut-up >d I used to be.
And now, back to work. And after work I'm going straight home.