I don’t think I could ever be a druggie. It seems like people often use drugs (or alcohol) as an escape from their problems. While I do see the benefits of occasionally drowning my sorrows with some rum, drugs have too many crazy side-effects. I prefer to simply fall asleep and let my brain create an alternate reality, one where my only problem is how to kill all these bad guys with my sweet spy skillz. I don’t have to worry about getting a job, paying my rent, cooking my meals, dealing with boys or finding time for friends.
Sleep is the best escape. Ever.
When I wake up, my bed becomes this special sacred place where my problems can’t touch me. I mean, I definitely DO think about them, but in a detached kind of way. Hmm, I should probably deal with x issue. Later.
As soon as my toes touch the floor, though, “x issue” becomes “X ISSUE” – and I freak out. Wow, I need to deal with this *now*!
Obviously, this reaction does not drive me to leap out of bed in the morning. Which is why I spent far too long yesterday curled up with my down comforter. Sadly, like any method of procrastination, hiding from my problems does not actually solve them. Eventually, my toes will touch the floor and I’ll have to accept that I need to grow up.
Aw, crap. I hate being an adult.
Note: I’ve touched on this before, but “being an adult” does not mean you can NEVER hide under a blanket.