Ugh. I don’t wanna.

I don’t wanna schedule appointments and go to them. I don’t wanna get ready and be on time for stuff.
I don’t really want to leave the house.
I don’t wanna do that project I promised.
I don’t wanna read that book I’m supposed to.
I don’t wanna make any more meals or clean up after any more meals or clean up after any more creatures.
I don’t wanna play games or blocks or cars or squirt stuff.
I don’t wanna smile at strangers even if they deserve it.
I don’t even wanna clean up after myself.
I don’t wanna put that away or get that other thing back out. I don’t wanna look for the thing I can’t find.
I don’t wanna hear about the sick and the starving and the abused.
I don’t wanna fight any more about being polite or sharing or eating or cleaning up or getting dressed or putting on clothes.
I don’t wanna answer the phone. I don’t wanna pay bills.
I don’t wanna puke any more.
I don’t wanna prepare for all the holidays and the craziness and the expectations and the visits.
I don’t wanna hear about what other people wanna talk about.
I don’t wanna hear any more sounds for, like, three days.
I don’t wanna be so drained after fun visits with friends.
I don’t wanna be such an introvert or so sensitive or so easily swayed off my precarious center.
I don’t wanna do any of this today. Or tomorrow.
I just don’t wanna.

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12 thoughts on “Ugh. I don’t wanna.

  1. Oh, I hear you! (Although you might not want me to). at times when i “dont wanna” i just walk city streets, being completely and utterly unfriendly and anonymous….but i dont know, you probably live in back of whoop whoop making that one a little bit tricky. you could always just have a good flop about instead. that works no matter what size town you live in

  2. You gots it, J. You have more rights to this post, with a house fulla germs for nigh on two weeks and creative itches going unscratched. But I’ll ride your strike coattails any day.

  3. Yeah? Well… I didn’t wanna read your blog today but I did. I took a deep breath and pointed my interwebs machine towards your brain and I fucking read it. And you know what? Because of napwrite and through the power of ADD and technology (the original peanut butter and chocolate) I learned that “[I]’ve outlived Mabel Normand by almost two weeks. She was a comedic silent film actress who delivered the first ever cinematic pie-in-the-face. She died of tuberculosis on February 22, 1930, 45 years before [I was] born.” And I never knew that or saw her or cared. But the pie-in-the-face changed everything. Not in a Challenger, 9/11, hostages way. Like, in the exact opposite way. That shit is funny. Tuberculosis, not so much. But pie; pie in the face? Hilarious.
    I don’t know if Mabel ever checked online to see what time the phlebotomist/veterinarian/library closed. You’d think after the first two, she’d at least call the last one, but whatever. Twenty-four hour grocery stores have fucked up everything. And oh, btw; when The Hills is on at 9, you’d better be damn sure the library is closing at 8:45; no need to call. It’s a TV show… and yes, watching Hulu counts as watching TV and, yes again, that’s a fine way to procrastinate in your empty-except-for-Zach’s house. I digress.

    Mabel. Mable took a pie (pies are for eating you see) and, well, she threw it in someone’s face. Not so that the person could eat the pie, mind you. She did this simply for comedic purposes. And it worked. I agree that it’s completely contextual: you will not get any laughs if you throw a pie in the face of a vet or a phlebotomist or a librarian UNLESS you video record it and put it up on YouTube. Then you will get laughs. And you will likely get arrested for assault. And the evidence will be right there on the interwebs and the judge will be all “WTF?” And you’ll be all “But, dude! LOL, no?” And he’ll… What was my point? This:

    Mable Normand was younger than me when she died and, yes, she changed the world whereas I have yet to change the world but, hey, that’s TB. The fact remains, though, that she did what she did only because she got out of bed and listened to people she didn’t want to listen to and read books she was supposed to read but didn’t want to read and paid bills and answered the phone and put on clothes and went to the movie set to do her job and she got on that set and she did her job and she fucking threw pies in peoples faces goddamit! And that shit was and still is funny.

    A pie in the face is just as real and just as fundamental as an exploding space shuttle. But only one makes me giggle.

    And the even better part is that throwing pies in faces is completely and totally spur-of-the-moment-holy-shit-I-just-had-an-idea-what-if-I-throw-a-pie-in-his-face-’cause-pies-are-for-eating-see-and-that-shit-would-be-funny-and-we-might-even-change-the-world-if-we-get-it-on-film spontaneous thing. And maybe all any of us needs to do in order to change the world is just get out of bed and do our jobs even when we don’t wanna and puke and nourish and encourage the world-changing, ah-ha moment that is currently but a kernel in our sternocleidomastoid – that great accessory to inspiration – just waiting for the right yoga pose to bring it forward. And when it does, the world will be like “that shit is REAL.”

    Best. Inspirational monologue. Ever.

  4. I don’t wanna either.

    The only thing I wanna do is watch The Office tonight because Jim and Pam are getting married.

    And that’s about it..

  5. Hey, MPB. Shut yer pie hole.
    Nice comedic work on the touchpoints from other posts, sure. Nice bringing things full circle. Nice tangents then pullbacks. Interesting juxtaposition of judge and Internet colloquialisms like WTF and LOL. So, overall, okay work. But shut yer pie hole nevertheless.
    Amber and Gibby, any chance you can boycott tomorrow and come over here today to do some stuff for me? ;-)

  6. I didn’t wanna do anything today either. So I didn’t.

    Tomorrow is gonna SUCK.

    (Know what doesn’t suck? This post. This post was pretty awesome.)

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