Between the blog, my job, and the actual consuming of pasta, I have very little leisure time. But weekends throw a wrench into this, and the amount of time I suddenly find myself with paralyzes me with anxiety, not freedom. I don't think "what can I do with my time", I think, "what should I do with my time"?
Sometime in college I developed a sense of guilt about doing anything 'pointless', like playing video games, reading fictional novels, browsing the internet, or so on. Note that I didn't stop doing these things; I just felt bad the whole time I did them, and awful when I saw it was time for bed. Had an entire day just slipped by, with nothing accomplished but a higher number above my gnome warlock's head?
Lunch was Noah
Dinner was compose of three plates of pasta:
Clearly, my guilt is even more useless than my hobbies, but I've yet to find a way to escape it.
A special thanks to my dining companion, Danny!