For the most part I bimble along through the days, just getting on with what needs to be done and that's that. But when I start analysing how I spend my time outside of work it becomes clear that something is amiss.
Whenever I chat with people about everyday stuff, it always seems like other people's lives are a whirlwind of activity so intense it would leave Superman leaning against a lamppost, breathless and clutching at the stitch in his side.
I, on the other hand, sit down in the evening once dinner and the washing up are finished and wonder what the hell I'm going to do to fill the remaining hours in the day until it's time to curl up in bed for yet another night of Olympic standard snoring.
The weekend is even worse because I don't have work to break up the day, and once the car is washed and the supermarket has been visited to stock up on Doritos and popcorn in readiness for the evening's slobbing in front of a film, there's still a big chunk of the day remaining.
Now there's always a few jobs that need attending to, but somehow it's hard to get motivated to deal with them even though I'm desperately bored. I need to de-spider the shed, rub down the bathroom door frame where the door is chafing, clean behind the washing machine, and invent a way of airing the towels every day through the winter without them getting in the way or resorting to the tumble dryer.
Instead, I'll choose to shoot people on the Xbox until the wife gets fed up with all the gun noises, then turn on the computer to kill a couple of hours looking at cars and boobs on the internet.
It's completely predictable, dull, repetitive, and frustrating - especially knowing that the only thing stopping it from being any different is me.
This behaviour could indicate one of two things. Firstly, that I'm clinically depressed and it's only a short step from here to an overly tight necktie. Otherwise it could be that I'm actually doing all that I want to do and need to accept the situation and embrace it.
I should be able to enjoy the fact that I've engineered my life to be as stress free as possible, leaving me with ample free time to spend doing as much or as little as I wish, and if I choose to kill time doing as little as possible between cooking meals and descaling the shower head yet again, then I should be able to do so without feeling guilty.
I think the guilt comes from thinking I should be doing interesting stuff with the wife - going here and there, exploring and having little adventures - but as she's of much the same mindset as me neither of us motivates the other and we're left looking at each other going "So what do you want to do?", "I don't know, what do you want to do?" like those vultures in Disney's Jungle Book.
Inactivity leads to boredom, and boredom leads to all sorts of bad things like excessive chocolate consumption, trying to shoot magpies beyond the range of acceptable accuracy, and reactivating your Facebook profile even though you've spouted off repeatedly on your blog about how crap it is.
The most frustrating thing is that I'm always full of ideas about what I could be doing. My insane brain is constantly coming up with potential projects that could fill the empty hours with productive activity, but I still haven't installed a big V8 into a very small car, built a canoe, restored a steam engine, or learned to paint. I haven't followed up the idea of joining a photography club, the power kite only got used a couple of times, the archery had to stop when I knackered a tendon in my arm, and any hopes I had of actually learning to dance properly were dashed last November by the amazing exploding knee episode.
Perhaps it's time for me to accept that if I really wanted to do these things I would have been doing them already, and that I must therefore be content with things the way they are. Anything I've done to change my situation, believing myself to be dissatisfied with life, has failed for one reason or another, and that can only be because although outside influences make me feel like I'm missing out on a big exciting life, the truth is that I'm happy as I am, and I need to stop being miserable about it.
Loved archery - gutted to have to give it up.