This moment keeps happening. The moment of action, the moment of decision arrives. Full force unblinking. The moment is here.And I go to the bathroom.I've had the blog available, set-up, linked to my site for three years now. Three years of sitting down, starting to write and immediately doing something -- anything -- else. It's like giving a cat a bitter pill. Thrashing around, lolling it's away from its medicine, hissing and scratching, it will do anything but submit.I'm a fearful person. I'm bold in social situation, and transgressive in a cynical, aging-hipster sort of way. But letting go, letting it all out there for everyone to see? I should think not.No, I have bad reality television to watch, Talk of the Town's to read, anything -- anything -- short of writing here. Or back to that guy on Nerve, or working on my thesis project, or a new apartment, or maybe some new direction in my career. Anything that would move things forward. No. That's not for me. At least not for the time being.Of course, le lendemain qui dance will always be there -- the glorious future of tomorrow, where I am accomplished and married and settled. That tomorrow has been deferred many a time.Last night I had a terrible fever. I barely had the strength to get out of bed. I kept wondering about a problem on a project I'm working on. What's the default view? What happens if you log into this system, but for some reason it doesn't know who you are. It's a stupid question now -- the system would never let an unknown user in. But in a semi-conscious state, slipping between dreams and fevered wakefulness, I racked my brain to come up with an answer. I think the real question I was trying to answer is: what is my default state? What are the assumed, unconsidered attributes of my self that result from a lifetime's worth of distractions, deferrals, and expediencies?This is all so cliched. That's the problem with blogging. A million geeks pouring thier hearts out, only to realize that no one cares.