See LARGE; press F11 for the full-screen effect (if you are a PC user).
November 12, 2007, New York City:
I didn’t do it…
Whatever it was, I just didn’t do it.
I’m wholly innocent.
In fact, I practically didn’t do anything whatsoever this weekend.
My mother came in for a brief visit on Friday afternoon, and subsequently, two days of utter sloth followed thereafter.
No work, no productivity, no creativity, no projection of my self into the ether—nothing.
For the most part, I simply lied in bed. In turn, I redefined what apathy means to me.
I wasn’t sick or depressed or really all-too-tired. I simply gave into the moment and decided that doing nothing was worth my while.
Almost 48 hours passed unnoticed, 2880 minutes unmarked by any so-called meaningfulness, 172,800 seconds of my life gone by.
I awoke from my stupor when I realized I had to go to work this morning.
That was an eye-opener.
Damn you work!