Here's how it usually goes: I do something infrequently, like, say, bowling. I enjoy it, but more importantly, I have very limited success with it. In bowling, that means that I kissed the sweet side of three digits. And then I decide that I could maybe do it professionally. I go about looking at bags, and shoes, and balls. Sometimes I think maybe I'll need a special glove apparatus. It gets pretty hard-core before it's completely forgotten. And then, maybe a year and a half later, I hit the lanes again and start all over again. The same thing happened when I shoveled a huge pile of mulch from our driveway to just behind itself. It took me a couple days and was great for the forearms. And I decided, yes, I could maybe do manual labor for a living.
This was not the case as I went about folding 40 origami boats last night for our invitations. I can't even talk about it. I actually choose what I do over fantasies of something new. Crazy.