I Have the Willpower of a Matured Dandelion

Shortly after submitting my introduction post, I faced an internal dilema. You see, on one hand I wanted to be all cool and mysterious and remain anonymous. But on the other... on the other hand I didn't. What's the point in writing something that isn't going to be read? I know, I know, the pleasure of writing is supposed to come from the feeling of writing it and such... and that's great and all... but it's only really an awesome theory on paper (pun intended). In reality, I want feedback. I want to know if the words that I meticulously picked out had the desired effect, or if they just flopped on the ground like a dry fish.

Does it make me a bad person if I crumbled within the first thirty seconds of posting and sent this blog to someone I know? It's not like I didn't know my willpower was in the shitter already. Because trust me. It is.

You know how long it takes me to click on the little facebook bookmark when I'm doing homework? Negative two seconds. That's right. I bet right now you're like, now wait a second. I've been educated for quite a few years now, and I'm prettttty sure, no offense to your intelligence or anything, but I'm pretttty sure you can't have negative time. Well, you would be wrong. Because my willpower is so weak, that it breaks before I even decide to do homework. I could be sitting on the couch with mounds of stuff to do, and the red notification box pops into my mind, calling to me. Whispers of promising status updates and photo likings. And THUS. Negative two seconds before my mind registers the need to do homework, I have decided that it will not be getting done anytime soon. I've already clicked the FB tab in my mind. It's happened with such force that most of the time facebook is already open on the computer by the time I've drifted into the well worn seat cushion.

My willpower is similar to that of a matured dandelion. You know, the kind that people blow on to make wishes and spread weeds. Sometimes the wind picks it up on its own. It doesn't take any convincing. Other times its a bit more difficult. You'll need an entire lungful of air to send the pieces into the sky. Either way it never stays completely in tact.