Bloggaday: Bloggaday 191 – NNP 3: The Eudaimonia of Bloggaday

Bloggaday 191 – NNP 3: The Eudaimonia of Bloggaday

Bah. I had the hardest time remembering Eudaimonia from Philosophy class.

I’ve come up with my fair share of Bloggadays that will never see the glow of folks’ monitor, but it’s for that very reason. It could be a thought about a person or their actions that I wouldn’t want them to read if by some fluke of a chance that they did read it.

The Bloggaday isn’t really written for an audience. If someone read it and said, “Hey we like it and want to give you money to write for us,” then yay, but that’s not going to happen. I knew over the course of a year, I would publish several Bloggadays that deserve to be read, and I fully believe I have quite a few of those nearly 200 Bloggadays in. And before I started this blog a day venture, I had high hopes for it, thinking it would be cool to bind them* into a book. I think more than anything though, the Bloggaday was a contract with myself that I would write every day for a year.

Sadly, I felt it was something I needed. I tend to be somewhat lazy, and more dangerously, I’m prone to be very short of attention span. You can see an extension of this earlier when I said that I tend to get hooked on certain things for a while before moving onto a new “passion.” While not classically “short,” passions tend to last longer than they do for me.

When I say I’m laxy and have a short attention span, it’s more of a thing that I don’t stick with projects and stuff like that for very long. Heck, my career goals shift every couple of month. If I can’t shamelessly steal another podcast line, I’ve got to learn some discipline.**

I’m somewhat finicky I suppose. I felt having to sit down for a whole year and working at something every single day would do that for me. Dang, a year. That’s over 1% of my life. Kind of weird to think about.

I tend to lose interest in things when they stop being a “fun little activity” and become a job or a chore. As crazy as it is, I’ll even do this with food. I live like 11 minutes roundtrip from an Albertsons, so if I need anything grocery-wise, I can literally leave and be back within 11 minutes. Well, that feeds right into that quirk of mine. I actually used to walk up to Albertsons several times a week. I would pick up milk, bread, or anything else.

A couple of times, I found little food or drinks that I liked. I would pick a couple up, and when I ran out, I would just pick some more up. I figured I would go a bit overboard of them, get sick of them, and stop eating them. My mom though, would see me eating/drinking them, and when she would go grocery shopping, she would stock up on a shite load of them. By the time she saw me with the food all the time, I would usually be getting towards the end of my kick with them. Even if not though, that food went from a “fun little activity” to a chore. I now how to eat of the stock pile… And when I wasn’t on a kick with them, I had just bought them once to try, it kind of sucks. Granted, she was being helpful, and I am eternally grateful for everything she does. It’s just one of those shoulder-slumping moments.

Okay, 100 over my word count.

Listening to

Pretty Tied Up by Guns ‘N’ Roses

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