Hooked.

The days have been going by so fast. I've sort of fallen into a routine. I hate routines. I don't necessarily hate my routine, but just the entire concept. Once you fall into a routine, you wake up 20 years later and realize you've been doing the exact same thing for 20 years. Or 40 or 60. It's so easy for me to say that I'll take care of things and figure out my future later, but procrastination is like a drug. It eases the mind at first, but after awhile you're hooked. I like my job now and I like my life now... I just don't want to ever wonder what could have been. Wondering what could have been is the definition of failure. If only there were more hours in a day.

Ramblings of a sleep deprived 20 year old closet workaholic. Nope. Closet partier. 20 and 11 months that is... :]

Austin was infested with bikers last week. I'm assuming they're gone now, simply because I haven't been stuck sitting next to them on 183 in a couple of days. I swear, sitting next to a pack of bikers almost equals the discomfort level of sitting next to a crippled homeless man. With a pitiful sign. Almost. Oh, I have two cats now. :] Just for the summer while a certain cat owner resides in London. They used to be best friends, but they kept me awake Sunday-Tuesday night with all the growling. They seem to be getting along now, though.

I'm in need of a nocturnal journey sometime soon. The last time I ventured, I ended up playing catch at 1 AM with a glow in the dark football. Quite entertaining, but no adventure.

Sometimes I wonder if this city is for me.



Sometimes I think I'm just an addict of change.