I need a hobby.

I need a hobby. I used to think so because I was so gosh-darn bored with my life: Since being out of school, working 16 hours a week brought me close to no fulfillment. What the hell did I do with my time? I need to feel useful. This is part of the reason why I’m antsy to start school in the fall. Well, I got my raise and more hours at work. Putting in a 32-hour workweek, I realized again that I need a hobby. An activity to help keep my head up. Something to look forward to on a regular basis. Anything.

Yoga? I stopped going after two or three classes. Hmm. I used to write. Maybe I should pick up a new Moleskine and pretend to be pensive (I probably filled in ten pages in the last one, and I can’t locate it at the moment). I used to care about music, right? Putting three years of my life into KUCI must have meant something. It mattered to me which artist came out with which album during which Tuesday. At the moment, I’ve been harboring a list of albums to acquire since probably the end of last year. What? Metric came out with a new album years ago? I’ve decided that I’m too lazy to keep up.

It was suggested that I take a course at the local community college. Great idea, but it’s too bad that the enrollment window closed ages ago for the summer sessions. What about cinematography? I took a class on Danish cinema before, and I loved it. What scares me now is that I’m unable to take classes (read: time constraints!) that interest me. I’m stuck with social welfare forever. After the two years of school, I’ll (hopefully) be working too hard to care about anything else. Well, let’s hope not.

A friend and I tried to take up knitting once. We Google’d “how to cast-on” and I gave up ten minutes into it. I couldn’t even start to knit. It was too bunchy for me. And then someone else suggested that I pick up some art supplies and start an art project. I was in several art classes in high school and playing with charcoal and pastels yielded some neat results. Forget it, nothing’s ever going to come of it.

And I’m afraid of picking up Theo’s DSLR for fear that I won’t be able to figure out the different terminology and controls. How the hell was I photo editor of my high school paper, then? I think my problem here is that I don’t have the passion…?

Oh man, I need a hobby. Why can’t I build toothpick houses or start biking? I lose interest too quickly, too. Sadly, I can’t remember the last time I finished a book that I truly enjoyed. I’ve been telling myself to pick up a paint-by-number since years ago. I think it’s time to take myself up on that offer. A hobby for 5-year olds, you may think. Have you seen them? They can get pretty intricate!

???

I like it when people ask questions.

Hoodies

Fall is, by far, my favorite season. Blustery days, crisper evenings, higher probability of rain, shorter days, Halloween (!), soup, pumpkin pie, wearing more tights, coats, scarves, and sweatshirts.

I’m in a good mood, too, when I have no reason to be. This is nice.

I heart Google

I’d like to take a couple of minutes to commend Gmail. Who would’ve thought that it’s so amazing and useful? I just discovered the point of labeling my mail as the result of my wondering why there weren’t any folders. With that, I set up my school account to forward all my stuff to Gmail, too. I just spent the last 15 minutes happily labeling all my documents and mail. Man, Google really is on top of things.

It’s too bad I get at least 50 pieces of spam in my inbox daily, though. I designated all junk to be sent to this email (for 2 years or so) before I started using it for real. Now, the next step is to get rid of all the spam… Not that I have a problem with it being in its designated folder and that it doesn’t meddle with my regular stuff, but the “358″ sure looks ugly on the sidebar.

Broseph

I thought it might be important to note that this weekend I saw a 3-year old with a t-shirt that said, “Bro in training.” Seriously?

I suppose it could be up there with the thongs marketed for 5-year olds at Abercrombie. That is no joke, either. Have you seen the CEO? Here, I’ll save you the trouble:

Mike Jeffries, everybody. He’s 61, by the way.