Extremes

It has just become clear to me that I function on extremes most of the time. For example: I go through long periods of no book reading, and then, suddenly, out of nowhere, I have this urge to read - any and all books I can get my hands on. And then I have to read all day and all night just to quench this undeniably strong thirst to read and understand and KNOW WHAT HAPPENS. It's quite ridiculous, really. (Perhaps some of my drama comes from the fact that I just finished reading the third book in the Twilight series.)

Or another example is my cleanliness. As most of you know, I'm wickedly clean. Borderline obsessive-compulsive with my straight lines and spotless surfaces. But every once and a while (during times that virtually no one has seen...) I am out of control with my mess - clothes everywhere, papers scattered, drawers open, bed unmade. Sometimes I can be disgustingly dirty, too, you know.

And right now, I find I'm dealing with the worst extreme of them all: My hysteric craziness versus my bleary-eyed laziness. I have nothing to do these days but all the things I want to do! (This may seem weird, but hear me out.) I have (literally) lists upon lists (I'm sure none of you doubt this) of stuff I wanna get done. I have piles and piles of papers that are just DYING to be sorted. I have binders and binders of old materials that are begging to be burned! I have emails abound that are waiting to be answered. And what do I do? I sit here on facebook and waste my life away. I blog, I primp, I talk on the phone, and I read the next Twilight book (if I can get my hands on that sucker). I DO NOT workout. I DO NOT cross items off my (near eternal) lists. I DO NOT get work done that has been waiting for me since high school ended.

It's almost as if I like not finishing these blasted lists. Do I?

Oh man. I'm super masochistic. I always have something to do because I always leave something to do. It's a sick and vicious cycle. Where is my therapist when I need her the most?