I keep thinking that I should meditate. I keep thinking that I should go to the grocery store and buy some food that I can cook. I keep thinking that I should stop it already with the ice cream and the Roswell. I keep thinking that I should do this creative writing exercise I practiced four weeks ago, got really excited about, and haven’t done since. I keep thinking about these things I should be doing differently and I keep not doing them. I don’t want to today.

When I think about tomorrow and what my ideal day would look like it involves my bed and a book, my couch and Roswell, my couch and a Redbox dvd, my couch and ice cream, and my bed and a nap. I wish that I wanted to be more adventurous than that right now, but I really don’t.

I feel like there’s something wrong with wanting to be slothful. Or that it’s acceptable in only limited quantities. Like I can indulge it for a day, but only if I can justify it by bracketing it on either side with busyness and productivity.

The truth is, how my life looks now is not how I want it to look forever, for the long-term, or even in three months time. When I daydream my fantasies are not of me in a new apartment in a new part of the state on this same couch watching adolescent dramas unfold on my laptop courtesy of Netflix. I do not think this couch and my Netflix instant play account are the source of aliveness. Yet, it’s where I was for part of today and it’s where I think I’ll want to spend tomorrow. Tomorrow being a Saturday. Today having been fairly busy/productive and Sunday promising to be busy. Sloth justified.

I don’t know why I’m in this space where all I want to do is treat my body like it’s my greatest enemy and my mind like it’s being punished for something (if you’ve never seen an episode of Roswell you just wouldn’t understand), but it’s what I’m doing. I’m not meditating. I’m not drawing. I’m not writing. I did manage to go to the grocery store today; I walked out with Safeway water and ice cream. Again.

I have slothful and gluttonous tendencies. I want to give myself permission to indulge them (since I am anyway) and I also wish I didn’t want to indulge them anymore (so I can get on with the things that actually feel enriching to me. And because then I wouldn’t have to do google searches like the “signs of diabetes” one I did just now. In the middle of writing this post. Because I’m afraid I’m giving myself diabetes.).

How do I allow myself to be where I am when I don’t particularly like or feel good about where I happen to be?