Unmotivated

Here's what not to do: turn on some really great jazz first thing in the morning (kcsm.org) and then marvel how you really want to sit in some darkened lounge, sipping wine, legs crossed, one foot bobbing in some erratic non-rhythmic staccato. Afterwards you'll go to some beat down bar in town (smoking cigarettes along the way if, of course, you smoke cigarettes) where you'll have conversations starting out with the noblest of causes: the opium fields in Afghanistan; the proposed social housing to be inserted in Dunbar; unions; Buddhism; unaffordable housing. But then the conversation will slide just a little, going from the macro to the micro. Your gaze, once slightly furtive and sly becomes more intense: latches on. Oh, you saw the new exhibit too? What did you think? You're looking good these days. I like your shirt, have I seen it before? Have you seen the new Wes Anderson movie? Remember the time we...?
And bam! just like that you're sitting in an empty apartment, surrounded by boxes bulging at the seams, sipping coffee sans sugar because you ran out a few days ago and simply cannot be bothered to introduce one more food product into your shrinking cupboards, as you update your blog and allow your mind to wander upon learning (from the new, thoroughly enjoyable San Francisco based jazz station) that there is a jazz festival going on in San Francisco right now.
I should probably buy some sugar.
Or a ticket to San Francisco.