I don't have a bad work ethic, I mostly just don't care.  Maybe I'm jaded, but I don't find myself really BELIEVING in a lot of things these days.  Perhaps I've lost some passion for life; I'm not doing anything important.

(I blame the television.  And the kids with the clothes and the drinking of the alcohol.  And the drugs.  Wait, just to clarify, I am not doing drugs.  I blame those who are, because seriously, they are really screwing up things.) 

What I've discovered in life is that I'm often on a different page than others.  If I'm passionate about plaid, everyone else is passionate about stripes.  It's hard to be excited when you're dining as a party of one.

Or maybe, just maybe, I don't have a good work ethic and I'm lazy.  And scared.  A horrible combination; it means I'll never leave the couch for fear it won't be there when I get back.

As a separate but somewhat related thought, is it bad that I voiced the other day that I'm okay sticking with work I don't love if it affords me the time to do the things I actually do love?  It just seems that since those words were uttered, my "things I love" time has died a quiet death.

A LITTLE LIKE MY SOUL.

I kid, I kid...sort of.