Verrrrrry tired today…not sure how I’ll make it through the day on 4 hours of sleep. Guess I’ll have to start in early with the caffeine.

I started crocheting another blanket last night. I agonized over a set pattern for this one since my last one was quite strict in dimension, but ended up giving up and making it free form. It’s much easier that way, and I don’t have as many restrictions so it’s more fun and relaxing. Crocheting (while mainly a hobby practiced by grandmothers) is one of the only forms of expression (i.e. “art”) where I have actually felt more comfortable without a strict plan than when I’m sticking to a pattern. Typically I need to have it all thought out ahead of time when I create things because the risk of putzing the project up without planning is far too high. That’s one of the faults of being a perfectionist, I guess. A somewhat lazy perfectionist perhaps…but just because I don’t put forth a heroic effort on something doesn’t mean the sub-standard quality doesn’t *bug the HELL out of me!*

I guess I should clarify that a little… Before I decided to give up on making a premeditated pattern for the blanket, I sat there thinking to myself that I have so much wasted potential in my life due to utter laziness. Throughout school (and life, I guess) I’ve always been a few steps ahead of most of my peers and have found it easy to excel in many things without a whole lot of effort. Until college, I had never studied for a test, because I didn’t have to. While that may sound conceited, I assure you it’s just the truth. I got very good at bullshitting my way through my classes because they were designed for those who were not quite as “gifted” as myself. (That label got slapped on me enough to make me want to puke.) Nevertheless, I only tried as hard as I needed to in order to get good grades.

It wasn’t until I hit college that I realized how much more I could offer if I just made an effort. In my art history classes, it was imperative to study my ass off to learn the material, so I did, and found myself astounded by how much I could learn and the speed at which I could learn it. I breezed through all my exams but at the end found myself rather depressed because I finally saw just how much of my life I’ve wasted because I only worked as hard as I needed to in order to “do well”.

I spend more time thinking about doing great things than actually doing them. I frequently underestimate myself just because I’m so comfortable doing the bare minimum that I don’t really know what I’m capable of. I have no clue where the hell this trait came from since my whole family is full of perfectionists and overachievers.

All I know is I’m saddened by the idea of knowing I’m lazy while at the same time realizing how much I could offer the world if I got up and did something about it. And that’s no one’s fault but my own.