Before Thanksgiving I was full of excitement.
Harry Potter was coming. Dan's birthday was coming. Thanksgiving was coming. The end of school was coming. Christmas was coming, for science's sake.
Everything was great and exciting.
But as the first few things came to pass, one after another, things weren't as pleasant and care-free as I'd originally thought they'd be, and life wasn't nearly as exciting.
Now I've been bored and lazy. The apartment is a mess and my novel still hasn't been edited.
And now I have the desperate urge to run and skate and dance and do anything. But none of the will to actually get the fuck up and do any of those things.
I want a life of beauty and love and...life! Why is it so hard for me to just get up and make these things myself?
What is holding me back?