Hey, how was your weekend? Good? That’s great. I spent a healthy chunk of mine in Buffalo for something of a gentlemen’s excursion to watch the Bills face the Tennessee Titans. There is actually a lot of sports related things I’d like to discuss, certainly including: The 2011 Bills, people’s hatred of the Bills, Tootoo running Miller during Saturday’s Sabres game, Miller dropping bombs, and of course Tootoo’s stupid last name. I’ll save all that for later in the week. I came to this episode with a purpose, a meaning, a theme!!!
Motivation. Have you ever wished that someone could bottle motivation and sell it? Don’t say coffee or Red Bull, because anything that can be mixed with Baileys or Vodka respectively is not genuine motivation. After the busy Thanksgiving weekend, life returned to normal and I returned to working nights at the ole movie house. Working the night shift usually is something in the wheelhouse of 5:30ish to 1ish. What do I do from about 10:30 AM until 4:30 PM when I start getting ready for work? This is where a nice 20 oz bottle of Motivation, or Diet Motivation would come in handy, as the answer is best characterized as, “Fart around.”
TV, nap, more TV, doze off, Facebook, sleep, then oh shit its 4:45 PM, better hustle. Some days I can work in little victories like writing a blog, or doing a couple loads of laundry. Today I am doing both. Big win for this guy! Most days, I have ideas of things I should take care of then, ‘Oh shit, STARZ is playing Tron: Legacy again! There goes two hours.’ (Do they really have to play it every God Damn day? They know I’ll just end up watching it)
Around 3:30 I start getting the old “You realize you’ve accomplished nothing today, right?” feeling. I try to counter this with a glimmer of hope that maybe something life affirming and great will happen at work, leading me to feel pride and accomplishment. Such things are not quite possible at the movie house. It’s at the moment I pull in to the parking lot at the theater that I think, “If this was my last day on Earth, I’d be really pissed off at myself.” I don’t think that in any type of cryptic fashion, just existentially. I made no forward progress toward bettering myself as a person. I didn’t find a new job, I didn’t meet any new ladies, I didn’t shuffle my ass back to the gym so I can go back to “Is Minch dying?” weight. These are three realistic life goals (A Triple Crown, if you will) that have remained dormant as I have been mired in the cycle of sleeping, TV watching, and Facebooking…
If the comet were to hit or aliens were to attack and some other terrible Bruce Willis movie were to play out in reality, I’d have to live with the fact that I never visited Europe. I never made it to the NHL Hall of Fame as a play by play broadcaster. I never tried foie gras. Never visited NYC---that one always seems to shock people. I never met Zooey Deschanel or had a garbage plate with Jeff Bridges. Ok. Perhaps some of these goals are a bit more lofty, but they are unaccomplished goals all the same!
While writing this blog, I received a phone call. No seriously, it was like a movie. Guy writes a blog bitching about being stuck in a rut, only to get what may be a game changer phone call regarding one of his Triple Crown life objectives. I don’t want to get into details at this early juncture, but it wasn’t the RAC, and it wasn’t anyone looking for a date. Wish me luck, I’ll keep you updated.
Motivation has to be a self made brew. Your family and friends can’t get out there and seize the day for you. They can try to influence and inspire, but it is on the individual to not get caught up in alluring web of napping, internets, and watching Bill and Ted’s Bogus Journey. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have an hour and a half until work, which I intend on spending monitoring Facebook to see all of you like this, comment on it, and tell me I’m wonderful. Day well spent!
Minch
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