So the day prior, (which for me is the day of writing) I was hit hard by a terrible attack of sogginess. I am not sure if this is due to a fairly late night (1 am) and early morning (6 am) … but by mid-afternoon, I was Entropic. (Which, is a word I thought I made up and was fairly pleased with me, however, as I looked it up, it already exists, further adding to the data set that says I can't come up with anything new).
Did your mom ever say, "You are as slow as molasses"? I'll bet not, because really, who uses molasses any more these days? My mom says that and she actually uses the stuff to make amazing ginger-snap cookies. But, alas, I digress.
Do you ever feel like cereal that has been left sitting, until it is only a figment of its former self? It looks like it has a shape, but if you touch it, it disintegrates.
I planted tomatoes and peppers a day ago and it is much too hot for Spring … they were all wilty when I last checked them. Lack of turgor pressure.
That's what has happened to me … despite adequate hydration, my will power to accomplish anything is flaccid.
I am emotionally floppy.
With the steadfastness of a dandelion fluff, I barely avoided Netflix and half-heartedly picked some weeds out of the cracks in the driveway (a thankless task), did a load of laundry (thankless), cleaned up several disastrous areas of the house (yes, you can say the "T" word for me) and gave up before I hit the piles of "important papers" that are also thankless.
I wish I had some sort of awesome twist to this … where the brilliance and resolution converge. But, no, sometimes, there is no flavor to life. Like cold oatmeal, it is just bland and pasty. Those are the days you dare yourself to accomplish something – anything, and then you ride out the day, being kind to yourself, because everyone is allowed an unsalted, instant-mashed-potato-kind-of-day here or there.
If I were talk-texting, here is where I would say: smiley face.