And just like that, after two heavy, cerebral posts, I can’t think of anything to write about. I’m pretty sure I had ideas earlier in the day, but the fact that I’ve waited until the last possible moment to write before I need to head to practice means I won’t be able to put much thought into things.

That’s an odd Catch-22, isn’t it? I have things I want to write about, but I want to do it well (read: perfect), so I don’t write about them. Instead, I think about writing them, and this feel a small sense of accomplishment for not doing anything. Go me.

I used this strategy against my perfectionism a lot in school: if I waited until the last minute to do my homework, who could blame me if it wasn’t perfect? Not me, that’s for sure. A part of me has always wondered if I would have done any better in school if I had actually taken the time others suggested. That’s not to say I did poorly; I’m just woolgathering over might-have-beens.

And today wasn’t exactly a day to instill motivation to write, anyway. For the first time in a while, like last week, I had two days off in a row. However, this week I didn’t have anything I particularly needed to accomplish. So what did I do? I slept in, puttered about on the Web, played some video games, and even chipped away at my Netflix queue. In other words, a whole lot of nothing.

I even got bored! That’s not a common feeling for me these days; usually I’m too exhausted/stressed/whatever to feel much of anything once I accomplish what I need to. But lo and behold, I actually managed to complain (at least to myself) about “nothing to do.”

But hey, I promised a post a day, and I want to hold up my end of the deal. I did get two posts written yesterday, so I finally have a small buffer again. It would have been so easy to just let today’s commitment slide, but no. So instead of nothing posted, you get a post about nothing.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go hit my friends with sticks.