I'm not sure why but it seems that no matter how much I look forward to the weekend, I never actually have reason to. Sure, it's a few days off from work; which with my job is a nice thing. I don't actually do anything though.
It's not as though that's abnormal for me. I haven't really done anything other than eat, work, sleep, repeat in a long time. Only when I go to see my girlfriend is that any different. I suppose it's logical to assume that when she moves down here, which she will be doing in a few weeks, that I'll actually get out and do things, but there's something in me that wonders about that. Am I really that boring that I can never think of anything to do or is it just that I don't like doing things alone that keeps me home all the time?
I really don't have much of an answer for that, though I suppose I'll find out very soon. I'd like to think that it's just my lack of companionship that keeps me homebound but I'm a little worried that I really am that boring.
Any thoughts? Or am I better off not knowing?