Zero to lazy in 30 seconds of "The Office" and two bites of pasta

It's happened so many times, but I never seem to learn....

I get motivated, somehow - say, a stimulating conversation, reading an inspiring essay or interview, or perhaps just a thought that had never occurred to me before - and I am ready to go. Ready to create, ready to act, ready to do whatever the case may require.

But before acting, I usually get hungry. I don't know what it is about hunger and the creative drive, but for me, they seem inextricably linked. It's not necessarily a bad thing - to have my passion for food (when it's plentiful, delectable, or even merely accessible - which isn't always) leashed like a Pavlov's dog to the things I want to accomplish in life - but it's terribly unfortunate that I've linked it to the third element in the chain....

Assuming that I'm eating by myself, I figure I might as well have some other type of stimulation to accompany me. (But why? Therein lies the problem!) For some reason, if it's daytime, I can pick up the paper or a magazine, and read something relatively useful while I devour my turkey and provolone sandwich or leftover Chinese; but at night, as I warm up the pasta-spinach concoction, I have an unholy desire to be entertained by the TV. A typical justification: "Well, I already read the paper today, so I'll just relax a bit in front of the tube while I eat, before I tackle this project that I'm so excited about."

The beginning of the end.

For me, it's so easy to get caught up in diabolical cable TV, whether I like it or not. (There are shows that I like, and then there are shows that I know are trash, dumbing me down minute by minute, but sometimes it matters little which type I watch; they draw me in and beat me into submission.) Streaming Netflix is the worst. I mean, it's great... but it makes dependency so easy. I watched the entire second season of Parks and Recreation last week in three nights. It's like a goddamn soap opera to me. And you can guess where that motivation I spoke of earlier went: down the tubes... via the tube itself.

I'm not gonna dwell on this right now. In fact, I'm getting a tad frustrated just by describing the process. But perhaps it's a step... towards the exorcism of the flickering demons of the small screen.