Misery loves company, so these words are usually spoken when someone, like my mom, is around to hear them. Fortunately my attempts to wallow in self-pity are broken by advice from the font of maternal wisdom, "Stephen, you should get a hobby."
A hobby. Seems like a quaint idea. I immediately imagine a boy from the 1950's with a pocket knife, whittling away at a figure of a sailor. Somebody like Wally from Leave it to Beaver. I ponder that possibility. Many people carry pocket knives, however, how often they touch wood I do not know. I only see them in action slicing apples at the lunch table. I soon move on to refresh Facebook once more.
As to ways to keep me occupied when I am not occupied with something essential like school, blogging has been a persistent interest of mine. At first I thought I would wait until I deemed myself interesting enough to have a blog, but I got tired of waiting. Besides, as I think about it, to come to a point in life where you consciously "deem yourself to be interesting" is the same point in life where your inflated ego comes to rival the size of the Goodyear blimp.
So as I start this blog, I force myself to look at things realistically. I remind myself, "People couldn't care less, they could absolutely not care less about what happens in your boring life." A bit harsh? Perhaps, but it's better to start with low expectations.
Therefore, without further rambling, welcome to my first attempt at blogging. I'll try not to bore you to tears.