Like a Woody Allen Movie

Does inactivy breed more inactivity? Because I am so damn lazy lately, it goes beyond embarrassment and resides, leisurely, in mere acceptance.
Ok, so for the past couple of months I’ve been shirking any responsibility for it because it was NOT my fault. My tonsils were sucking all of my energy and attention and probably every calorie too and so what could I do? I was sick. Tired. Too pooped, sad, and miserable to do anything but have Elena rub me and cook for me and feel bad for me.
Soooo…now my tonsils are removed and I’m healthy. I’ve actually talked about getting my thyroid tested. Because maybe that’s the culprit. Yeah, that’s probably it. I’m not lazy and I can’t fit in my clothes because my thyroid is slow. Piece of shit thyroid.
I haven’t had it tested, probably because I know that there is nothing physically wrong with me beyond atrophied muscles. Ever since I started this sitting job…this work of LETHARGY I have become attached to it, married to the feeling of a numb ass and bored brain. My friend is studying for the GREs and she keeps telling me how ennui is her new favorite word. She defines it as, ‘restless from being bored’. Wikipedia defined it as, “a word meaning general disinterest or boredom or depression”.
I like how they tack on depression at the end, implying that such boredom results in depression. This is my interpretation.
(As a side note, my favorite new word when I was studying for the GREs to apply to grad schools that I didn’t attend, was ‘assuage’ which means, ‘to lessen the intensity of’ and I still don’t really know how to properly pronounce it or work it into a sentence but these words make me feel particularly quirky, sad, and mundane, simultaneously like I’m a fucking Woody Allen movie).
I was sitting on the toilet earlier, both going to the bathroom and just hanging out for a change of scenery even after I was done (try sitting in a NEW room) and I was thinking…I’m gonna have to really work all day long if I quit this office gig. I mean, I’ve been crabbing constantly about how bored I am and how I can’t sit at this desk for another single second and then, while on the shitter, I got nostalgic. I felt a pang of sadness for my slackerdom. You know, like…who will check my ebay bids? And how will the gmail community continue without my everlasting presence? Utterly pathetic.