pretty much haven't written in this for an age. Or since february, apparently. But it's late at night, or early in the morning, I can't sleep, and feel the need to vent. My cat is happily curled up next to me, enjoying my clean sheets.

Basically, I'm thinking about enough. I seem to have a problem with limits. As in, I kinda know when I should stop, but barrel on through anyway. Or go to the other extreme-laziness, giving up too quickly, not pushing myself far enough.

I guess it's a lack of self control-the tendency to take the path of least resistance. Elemental, in a way. And nobody's fault but my own.

I get older, I get more set in my ways and I wonder if I'm ever going to change. Then I eat crappy food, read crappy books and lament the sorry state I find myself in.

I want to change-but I can think that all I want. I have to actually do something about it for anything to happen. Not just complain relentlessly to kind-hearted people.