A Quote by Jim McMahon

I just lay in my room for days ... weeks. — © Jim McMahon
I just lay in my room for days ... weeks.

Quote Topics

For so long, the model for writing has been, you sit in a room alone for a number of days or weeks or months or years and figure it out. But now, you don't have to do that; you don't have to be alone in the room anymore.
When you want to be a fighter, you have to give it everything you got. MMA just became who I am because of the amount of work I was putting into my training. It all starts in the gym. The hours turn into days, days into weeks, and weeks into months; it's like school - the more time you spend learning, the better you'll be prepared for a test.
This is about all the bad days in the world. I used to have some little bad days, and I kept them in a little box. And one day, I threw them out into the yard. "Oh, it's just a couple little innocent bad days." Well, we had a big rain. I don't know what it was growing in but I think we used to put eggshells out there and coffee grounds, too. Don't plant your bad days. They grow into weeks. The weeks grow into months. Before you know it you got yourself a bad year. Take it from me. Choke those little bad days. Choke 'em down to nothin'. They're your days. Choke 'em!
We moved wordlessly from one room to another, from the room of the dead to the room where time lay in pages everywhere I looked.
I have bad days, days when I just don't want to do anything. Just kind of want to lay in bed.
Matthew wanted hours, days, weeks alone with her... he wanted all her thoughts and smiles and secrets. The freedom to lay his soul bare before her.
When the news is slow, or when there's just so many other responsibilities bearing down on me that I don't have the time to do it right, that's when it gets frustrating. As an artist, you just don't wanna put bad work out. So when you have to do it seven days a week, you're just gonna have some bad days and bad weeks and bad months and bad years.
Don't plant your bad days. They grow into weeks. The weeks grow into months. Before you know it, you got yourself a bad year. Take it from me - choke those little bad days. Choke 'em down to nothing.
I would stay in my room for days, for days at times, just trying to get it together, to know what my next phase was going to be.
Some days felt longer than other days. Some days felt like two whole days. Unfortunately those days were never weekend days. Our Saturdays and Sundays passed in half the time of a normal workday. In other words, some weeks it felt like we worked ten straight days and had only one day off.
I definitely shut down sometimes. I always just go into my own little cocoon and write, and I surround myself with as much music as possible. The last girlfriend I had, when we broke up, I remember being in a room for days on days on days with my music cranked up, playing songs like Kanye's '808's & Heartbreak.' That playlist just was long!
When the writing is going really well, whole days and weeks go by, and I suddenly realise I have all these unpaid bills and, my God, I haven't unpacked, and the suitcase has been sitting there for three weeks.
The thing about tennis is if you stay off for two weeks, or just for three days, you can lose your rhythm quickly. So it's just a question of constant diligence and vigilance.
I'll do very light, very easy yoga in my dressing room. I like to just lay down on the floor and put my legs on the wall and stretch and just be still.
In wrestling, people just throw each other around, possibly actually bleed, and are still friends in the locker room afterwards. But there's a real glee - a feeling goes up in the arena, especially on non-TV days. If it's just people in a room and somebody starts to bleed, that's very exciting.
Dear Sweetheart, Without you my days are endless. Days seem like weeks... Weeks feel like months... Months like years... Years like centuries... Centuries like... You get the idea.
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