That get me every time.
About a week ago we got a free newspaper delivered to our condo. Instead of delivering it on our front porch, they just dropped it off in the back right in front of our garage. Every day for the last week I've run over it about 4 times a day, leaving for work, coming home from work, leaving to hang out, coming home to sleep, and even though it is annoying, I don't bend, pick it up and throw it away in the dumpster that is literally 4 feet away from it. I don't know why, I just don't. Maybe somewhere in my mind I hope that Amy (my roommate) will pick it up and throw it away. She probably thinks the same thing.
Another thing: I've lived in Colorado for almost a year and a half now and I still have yet to get my Colorado drivers license. I know exactly where to go, and if I strategically plan my timing, it really wouldn't take more that 20 minutes to just go get my photo taken and become a responsible citizen of the state. But, alas, I don't do it.
As a final testament to my inability to handle the minutiae of my life, my fouton is still being held together with a screwdriver. I lost the little metal dowel that was supposed to hold it upright, and, having no other material just laying around, I grabbed my roommate's Phillips screwdriver and rammed it into place. It works like a dream, and is actually really handy because now we always know where the screwdriver is. The only thing is, it looks really strange just sitting there, protruding from the back of my furniture.
I don't know why I don't just take an hour between standing at the fridge and realizing I have nothing to eat besides year old mayonnaise and half a jar of marichino cherries and that all important rerun episode of Friends to go out and do these things, but I don't. I am an enigma.