Not Ready to be Done

It's a fine evening to do some projects. I am home alone, it's quiet, comfortable, I have a hundred things I could be working on and I don't want to do a single one. The living room, which was painted last week and is undergoing redecoration, is screaming to be finished. Every time I walk by it, I rearrange the mess on the couch, stare at the the array of curtains we're considering, and walk away without really doing anything. I attempted to put up a curtain rod tonight, but that mostly involved drilling a hole in the wrong place, couldn't drill a deep enough hole to get the anchor in all of the way, and then the part of the rod that you're supposed to screw to the wall is getting in the way of the screwdriver, making it impossible to finish tightening the piece and now it's hanging there all askew. So, we'll leave that for my better half to finish. 40 minutes wasted on something that turned out wrong anyway. I could bake or cook- I have enough veggies sitting around, just waiting to be made into something tasty. But I am so sick of washing dishes that it makes me want to avoid the kitchen completely. I could have worked more out in the yard while it was still light, mulching, moving some more plants around, digging out the little rocks that are out front, planting some fall grass seed. But I didn't feel like it- it's more fun to do that when someone else is around to help me out. I'm sitting in the basement, with a pile of paperwork to go through that is at least 12 inches high, but that's less than appealing right now. Excuses.
I am starting to wonder if I just need a night off, to rejuvenate and get some energy to finish these projects. Or perhaps I am incapable of finishing things, for fear that once they're done, I won't have anything else to do or to think about. Sometimes the mere idea of spending so much time arranging and rearranging the things we own seems so bizarre and almost a waste of time. I wish I didn't care how things looked or that I could look past them and not see the pile of things on the couch that are waiting to be put away.