How did it happen

It probably started a while back. And asking the question why is often futile.

Probably gained momentum slowly, until one saturday afternoon a guy thinks to himself. Rather than sleep [anybody know any hobbies? Apart from going to the gym], let me pop into the office and do xyz. Just like that, and a guy is well on his way to becoming a workaholic.

It hit me the other day. Real hard. I'm not one to linger in denial [either that or I have some serious subliminal reverse psychology stuff going] so I figured something needs to change. I need to change. Can't remember the last time I stopped a gorgeous woman in the street, it's that bad. Well I can. You don't forget that kind of thing. But. I'm not sure how it happened. One day you're an introvert who [very] occasionally has interesting encounters, and a couple of years down the line you're an introvert who rarely speaks.

Can't blame the job. Not really. I don't have to do anything. So why do I do what I do. Why's a futile question. Guys at work started making jokes about me [not] going home or showing up on weekends ages ago. Now the folks at home wear a permanent look of concern. The world won't end if I leave the office at 5 [although 0.5 did equate that with some sort of dream]. It'll end in 2012. So urgent stuff will maybe get done next week. Or next month. That's what happens anyway cause there's always something else that's more urgent that comes along. And, if I may quote someone else, the worst they can do is fire me. So I should do like everyone else, and run for the door at check out time. And find a reason not to come to the office over the weekend. But I don't fancy [coffee] dates. And the thought of doing the dance of death isn't too appealing. [Lame] Excuses excuses.