Productivity … I’m Confused, But Okay With This

Okay, so I’m on a steroid. Long story short, couldn’t breathe, doctor said, “Here, steroids” and I said “Thanks, man.” (To paraphrase.)

Dad was all like, “You’re going to do so many chores. Here’s the deal: if you think, ‘Hey, I wanna do that chore,’ DO THE CHORE.”

I was like, “What?”

He was like, “I was on this same steroid once, and it increases energy levels. You can’t help but tidy and clean obsessively.”

I responded, “Oooookay.” And I was thinking There’s no way that’ll happen, being productive is sooooo not my forté.

So today is my second day on the drugs. I tried–I really did–to just stick to my normal routine of browsing the interwebz in one spot for approximately seven hours.

Then I realized I was constantly shifting position, my fingers were twitching with inactivity, and my leg was bouncing at 6 mph.

Now my legs are shaved, the kitchen is super clean, my room is spotless, and I keep looking at things and thinking, I’m gonna fix that.

I CAN’T HELP IT. It’s just happening.

I legitimately considered going for a run. Fortunately, my personality is still intact enough to have rejected that idea. (The scary part, though, is that I’m still considering it, in the back of my head.)

Funny thing is, I’m not too bothered by it. Which is weird. Since work is annoying. But not today, apparently. As I put it to my friends: “I have so much energy. I could run to China, and rebuild the Great Wall.” Because we all know the Great Wall is overdue for renovation.

Yesterday, I made a phone call.

On business.

Without being told to.

It was super weird, but I’m getting my Driver’s Permit this Tuesday, so, I mean, I guess it was a win.

Wasn’t even that bad.

Which is something I never, ever thought I’d say about making a phone call to anyone other than my immediate family.

Oh! Cobble Comment submissions are officially closed. I’m gonna start writing the story, soon. If you comment on this post super fast, I might be able to fit your submission it, but after, let’s say, forty-eight hours after I post this, you’re outta luck.

Sorry/not sorry, I gave all y’alls time.

Heh. “All y’alls.”

Am I poisoning the internet with my steroid-induced energy? Probably. That means I should probably stop writing soon.

Huh.

Okay, fine, I’ll stop. Besides, I was gonna fold some laundry. Maybe even the socks. And, oh yeah, it’s Nacho Night!

That’s super exciting.


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