I've never even dreamed of having a pool downstairs. I've never dreamed of a clean, warm and quiet library, stacked with whatever my papers would require. I love living in a large city. I can walk around for days and still feel like it's the first time I've laid my eyes on it. I have all the time I want to just wallow and nobody to bother me. But it's exhausting. When the standard of living goes up, so do our expectations. Of ourselves. I'm working hard on building some self-discipline. I'm making myself listen to that pile of music I've collected thinking I'll play them the next day. I'm pushing harder to work out and eat healthy. The Easter holiday was a complete disaster for my body. I cannot go up the stairs to second floor without feeling like my heart will explode through my ears. I cannot stop craving for the greasy food and creamy deserts. I am a tea and salad person, but in between healthy meals I keep my mind busy so that I don't fantasize about a Whopper or spicy potato chips. Talking about keeping my head busy, it's also hard to get back on track with the huge amount of reading and the daily one pager I'm trying to impose on myself. The truth is I actually enjoy the exhaustive life much better. I sleep well, my back or head doesn't hurt anymore and I feel good about things around me. I might even become a good person if I somehow burn all the residual anger away.
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