If the Ghosts Kill Me, I'll Be Productive

So sometimes I go through bizarre phases wherein all decisions I make about prioritizing tasks while I'm at my house fall in the hands of... Pac-Man. You might think I jest, but I'm sorry to report it's the truth. I'm hoping that admitting to such sort of...shames...me into better behavior. (Then again, how much shame do I have if I'm admitting to it?)

Logic dictates that some things are more important than others: laundry; cleaning; writing; studying; cooking--these should trump, say, reading novels and watching television. Emphasis, of course, on should.

But lately I'm just lacking the motivation to do those most productive things and when I come home, my rationale works something like this: "If I can reach a score of 25,000 or more in Pac-Man, then I don't have to clean my room." Or do my laundry. Or cook a dinner. My expertise in keeping that little munchy man alive determines my responsibility level.

And then, when I'm in these moods, I feel entirely justified in saying that Pac-Man let me do whatever it is that I did. After all, if those things were truly important...wouldn't something intervene to harm my score?

It's silly, and I know it. But sometimes I like feeling as though my responsibility lies in the hands of something else. Even if it only last for a minute or two before I acknowledge that okay, after all, I am the master of my time. And it's probably not best spent playing Pac-Man.