Tuesday, September 9, 2014

Not really all that useful

When I'm particularly stressed out, or starting to feel in a blue funk (two things that often go together), I often find my thoughts turn to redecorating and/or exercise programmes.

I have to say that I also think of these things when I'm not feeling particularly stressed, but when I'm stressed out they seem to loom larger in my mind.

It's like I have 101 things to do and I don't know where to start - so thinking about moving the cupboard to the opposite side of the bedroom seems an appropriate response.

Or I have a bunch of assignments and some stuff for work coming up, so I suddenly want to take up body building.

(Well, no.  I don't actually want to take up body building.  I want to do one of those things actors do before filming a superhero movie where they hire a personal trainer and spend six weeks in an intensive exercise/diet programme and end up looking impossibly muscly and uber fit for the duration of the movie... and then go back to living a normal life.

It just sounds like a fun thing to do - go all out with the fitness thing for a couple of months, get plenty of photographic evidence, and then say "been there, done that - icecream!" and forget all that craziness.)

Instead I'm just cleaning stuff when I should be studying and doing push-ups whenever I can't concentrate on what I'm supposed to be reading.  And thinking about rearranging the furniture in two bedrooms.

I know why I'm doing it.  It's a way to delude myself that I have some control over what's going on in my life.  It's an instant gratification thing:  I can see my environment is more orderly, I can feel the effect of physical exercise.  I know I am having a direct influence on my world and making it "better"...

And at the same time I'm not facing the things I should be doing right now.

It's being useful, while at the same time not being useful.

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