The turning point

This evening is on a teetering bridge made of rope and two by fours. If I scamper across, I'll go to bed early feeling productive and satisfied. If I stand here and stare at the abyss I will go to sleep late wondering how TV and the Internet managed to completely soak up my night off. I used to have hobbies, but lately it seems like I have exercise/Ultimate or I don't. This imbalance can be off-putting some nights, but mostly it's fine. Tonight, however, I'm passing on exercise, having gone pretty hard for several days in a row. Without Ultimate and without exercise my evening is free. I'd like to read, maybe play the banjo, or just meditate a moment on my career path, but somehow I find myself in the habit of just trying to fill the moments between thoughts of exercise and Ultimate or the actual activity. It's time for more action.

When I finish this paragraph, I'm leaving the Internet behind for several hours. I'm going to change clothes a la Monsieur Rogers, crack open a book and get to reading in my rarely used reading corner. When I get tired of being curled up, I will tune my banjo and bluegrass out. When even my leisure needs planning, I start to wonder who inhabits this mind of mine.