I Still Feel Like a Kid

Sometimes staring at a blank page is the best inspiration for getting things done. Sometimes all it takes is the open road to make you want to drive. Sometimes you grab the full gravy boat at Thanksgiving dinner and down the entire thing in one chug because Grandma bet you it couldn't be done. Well, pay up, Grandma! And I'm sorry for the throwing up on the stuffing.

Inspiration is a funny thing. Most people need to be inspired to do something. I'm the complete opposite. I need to be bored. If I'm inspired to run a 5k in two weeks I hope to have a clear schedule because otherwise I'm going to be running like I need a lung transplant. I've never been a planner, and I'm probably not going to add that to my list of words that describe me, including but not exclusive too: smart, charming, funny, socially crippling, gun repair, and devilishly handsome, anytime soon. I shoot from the hip; making what some may call rash decisions. But sadly, science has yet to develop an ointment to magically give my id a 10 year plan.

I don't have a lot of hobbies. All the good stamps have been collected, I don't know enough about cars to put a hot rod together, and my lion tamer class expected me to provide my own lion and chair. I had the idea to buy a motorcycle late one Saturday last spring and by Thursday I bought my bike, found a gang, and got my tats, but I can only roll out with Bubba and the Gang between April and October. Then I enrolled in Grad School and instantly remember how much acadamia makes us all mindless zombies unable to have original thought. Though helpful with advancing my professional life, by all accounts and purposes, not a good hobby. I thought I was dead in the water. I mean, what is a man to do? Find the woman of his dreams, marry her, buy a house, have children and live happily ever after?

Pffff. Lame.

I can't string three sentences together in normal conversation because my mind has always worked too fast for itself. If I could get a court stenographer to follow me around and write down all the conversations I have with myself in the car before I get somewhere I wouldn't have to talk, I could just get her to read back the official record and I'd be the most romantic man on the face of the earth. Of course, I'd probably also have to hire an editor as well to string the best bits and pieces together. And a spell checker, because I'm still pretty god awful at that. But I've always been able to write.

Life is easier when you write all the dialogue. I think I found my hobby.