passive consumption.

The edge is lost, quickly. For me, it is lost on any good habit, but especially writing and running. Falling behind, or failing to practice, generates a sense of hopelessness. Why bother now? It also lets the fear creep back in. The fears sound like: it’s hard, I don’t have time, I suck, no one cares. So, without any time to decide otherwise, I’ve pulled out my computer and started to type.

I slept in because we stayed up until 2am watching the second season of this show (and shamefully eating a frozen pizza. Even as an adult, I can’t seem to remember that no good ever comes from eating after midnight.) So now I’m up and its warm in the apartment, because the sun beats through the all east-facing windows in the morning. I’m drinking coffee, but not eating breakfast. Jacob has left for a meeting and the gym. I’m listening to this because it’s beautiful and so epic-sounding and good for introspection.

I’ve talked myself out of my long run this morning, because there isn’t enough time before a friend comes into town. I have a list of things to do. I’m feeling guilty about the things I won’t do. I’m feeling scared that I won’t be able to finish the half marathon in a month if I skip another long run. But this is all real.

Yesterday, Jacob and I drove up to Politics & Prose (which I so desperately wish was nearer by. Driving across town is no small feat in this town).  We went to hear a reading by Steve Almond and Gregg Easterbrook from their books on football. I know little to nothing about football, and generally don’t care. We mostly went because I’ve been a nerdy-fan of Steve Almond for awhile, and I still think about his Week in Greed series two years after he wrote it. At any rate, it was just what I wanted/needed, although disappointing to see the empty seats in the room (and frankly, the ratio of older white women to….everyone else who was there).

But anyway. The thing he said, and the thing I can’t stop thinking about now, is that the sport of football, as it exists in our culture today, is perpetuating racism, sexism, violence, homophobia, and that the NFL, like every other corporation, has a cash register where a normal human being has a conscience/sense of morality/heart/soul/whatever-you-want-to-call-it. And our consumption, even passive consumption, is what keeps the dollars flowing to the mega-industry of football. Things I've never thought about until now.

In other news, Jacob re-taught me how to play chess last night, and we played five games in a row, and he won every single game. I don’t think I’ve played chess since I was a kid, but it was fun, and I’m battling some urges to do just a little reading on chess strategy so that when we play again I WILL WIN.

And that's all.

the view from my writing seat (& one red tomato - do you see it?)