As a generally lazy and unimpressed person, I’ve been trying to figure out what I’ve been doing wrong.
Ice-breakers always involve the question, “What do you do in your spare time?”, and my palms sweat. I imagine there’s this little man riding the ridges of my brain in an ore cart trying to scrap together the instances where something has held my interest, and he always returns with dust slipping through his fingers. For all these tunnels that exist in my mind, there never seems to be anything but a false light at the end.
I’m over it.
Housewives have hobbies. Kids get their kicks. Dads have drinking. There has to be something out there for me other than consuming celebrity gossip and bitching about vegans (there will always be bitching about vegans).
So, I’m going to try to find a passion. A past time. Something so I can answer that fucking question without my pulse racing. I might not find anything–I’m 25 and bored, after all–but, I have an idea of what I’ll like, and what I won’t, and they’re all worth their shot.
At least I’ll know.