Playing your own game is sketchy

I feel like I ought to do something. Something more useful than listening to music, solving a rubik's cube over and over, checking on my virtual reality games. There's scrapbooking to be done, college essays to be written, pictures to be taken for my mom. It's not much, but somehow I'm managing to do none of them. I don't dread the day I become productive - it's actually an exhilarating feeling - I just can't seem to stop doing nothing. So I'm blogging, while other people have internships and volunteering hours and work experience. This is the problem, isn't it? In golf, one of the things that all my coaches agreed on was that it was important not to worry about how everyone else was doing. It was important to just focus on one's own game. The competition isn't with everyone else, but with oneself.

Hm. There must be a much more eloquent way to word that.

Just focus inward?

No, I don't think it has to be a narrow, steely eyed concentration. It's not quite complacency either. It's almost a simultaneous awknowledgement of the situation tinged with quite indifference tempered with a clear objective. Being, I guess, "in the zone." Except with memory. Consciousness. And not in sports.