Am I the only one here who is psychologically incapable of making his own bed? Or cleaning my house? Or not letting beer cans accumulate in my bedroom for several months at a time? Why is it I have these difficulties? My mother thinks it's just profound laziness, but in truth I really just don't care if my house is clean or not, or if my sheets are clean, or if I knock over beer cans every time I move the chair at my desk. I think my dysfunction is getting worse. On my bedroom floor trash is indiscriminately mixed with clothing. I used to just not change the sheets on my bed for several months at a time, but two months ago I just took all the sheets and blankets off and just put a sleeping bag I had in storage on the bare mattress. I've been perfectly happy with this solution. Of course I've put several cigarette burns into the sleeping bag. I think the good lord is telling me something. That what I actually want to be is not a recording engineer but a junkie or a homeless person. I honestly don't seem to care.

Nicholas