"Man, yesterday was awesome. I got a ton of crap done, ran errands, paid bills, cleaned up around the house, played with the rat, and even ventured out to the grocery store..."
"Man, it feels good to get back to regularly going to the gym..."
"Man, this weekend was fun. ScurvyWife and I got lots of art stuff done, hung out, watched movies, and in general just relaxed..."
"Man, I got a ton of work done on assorted ventures..."
"Man, it felt good to just chill tonight, and sit outside on the deck, read a book, and hang out..."
"Man, it's cool to take random art classes and learn stuff, even if it isn't practical, and sucks up one night a week..."
"Man, it's fun to just regress to the days of yore and totally just geek out and stay up all night playing Civ IV..."
"Man, sore muscles aside, it feels damn good to bust my ass and all day and get tons of yardwork and other house-related chores done..."
"Man, it feels good to knock off some of the rust and write again, for no reason other than to just do it, and be creative..."
"Man, as much as I hate shopping for groceries, I enjoy cooking, and should do it more often..."
Lately it's bothering me a lot that all of the above recent thoughts I've had all have "...instead of spending hours sitting in front of a computer, playing poker" pretty strongly implied, after the ellipses.
It's especially bothersome as none of the above thoughts are really that extraordinary, when you get down to brass tacks. It's not like I'm feeling satisfied about curing cancer, working out the kinks of cold fusion, or working ceaselessly to feed the hungry children of the world. All of the above thoughts are perfectly mundane, everyday events that shouldn't be remarkable at all, in a well-rounded, fulfilling life.
Yet they are remarkable, in my current state. Increasingly so. And I don't like that fact very much. At all.