Dreamer not a Doer

That is what I am. I feel like I have all these big plans and ideas, and as they float around in my head during the week day and on the train they seem incredible, but I never seem to be able to put them into action. I feel like I am all talk.

It is true that I probably don't try hard enough or perservere long enough for things to really take hold, but the killer is I do actually try, but nothing seems to happen. The concepts I come up with for a play or a novel never seem to stick to the page without seeming trite and cliched. It is easier to veg at my house then get off my ass and do something--plus wireless internet means there are always unlimited time-wasting possibilities a short mouse click away. I also wonder if I really care to work on the actuality of something and deal with all the bullshit of real life instead of reveling in the pure simple joy of fantasy daydreams? Some days I would like to climb into them as if they were on the other side of the looking glass. Escape is what I want, but not in a desperate, sad sort of way--more in a tired, bored, and a wee bit exasperated sort of way. I am the current queen of the the grass is greener.

Also, I have officially stepped over the line to being the crazy girl. I chopped off my hair in front of the mirror yesterday (an obligatory scene showing the descent into madness), and I saved the hair (for future pictures when I remember to buy batteries for the digi-camera) in a plastic bag in my room. Let's face it, any way you look at that last bit I come out at least a little crazy. Plus I kind of want to figure out some way to keep it forever. Holly suggested I make it into a little throw pillow for my couch, and I am sincerely tempted. The one sign of hope that I am not completely gone is that when she suggested I send it to an ex-boyfriend, I realized that would be crazy in the bad stalked creepy way. I am definitely not going to be sending my hair to anyone. I am keeping it for me or throwing it out (after I have taken pictures of it). Maybe Brock Fisher wants it to make a sweater.

Maybe I should have named this post descent into madness?