Another day

My days are politicians. They start hopeful and resolute. They set out to be different; to make a difference. They abound with promises that they rely on me to fulfill.

Tuesday yanked me out of bed with the winning grin of a P.E. coach eager to inflict pain. Get up. You can do it. Read your bible. Center your thoughts. Go for a walk. Start your day, and get ready to do great things.

I read my bible on the throne. My thoughts wandered. I meant to go for a walk. I made a healthy breakfast of eggs and veggie sausage. That's about as good as it got.

I have developed a habit of eschewing work in the mornings. A talent really, more than a habit - a highly developed aptitude born of relentless practice. I take calls and attend meetings and triage emergencies of course, but I actually do very little. I produce almost nothing before lunch. It's rather remarkable. Even when I am sincere in my efforts, I manage to be busy without accomplishing anything real.

Now that I think on it, just about every attempt I make at anything constructive meets with the same fate. I experience, ironically, a kind of treadmill effect where hours spit from my heels without propelling me forward in the least. It is an exhausting sort of torpidity

Thus the morning slipped away. My excellent breakfast left me starving by 10, so I ate what I wanted. I had a bowl of Lucky Charms - a minor slip. One slip lends momentum to the next, however. In sharp contrast to my productivity problem, indulgences compound with surprisingly little effort. Famished by noon from the empty carbs, I discarded any notion of discipline and tore through the fridge like a racoon.

Another day, same as the last. Distinct merely in the flavors and degrees of its failures. Lazy, wayward, and distent. But I have to admit, I really like what I am hearing from tomorrow.