I’ve been feeling slow.
Restless-but-not-willing-to-do-anything-about-it. Sluggish, is a good word to describe how I’m feeling too. Shiftless sounds right as well–it gives off the right kinda vibe for this mood I’m in. Heavy isn’t that far off either… Basically, any (and possibly every) synonym under “lazy” describes how I’ve been feeling for the last couple of weeks.

And feeling lazy is the worst, because it’s a bit different from just being lazy. Being lazy means you’re just enjoying or are careless about not doing anything. I’ve earned my spot on this couch for the next couple of weeks, and I’m not moving!
Whereas feeling lazy means growing aware of your lack of productivity. “LET’S DO SOMETHING,” your body seems to scream as you stubbornly ignore it and continue watching 3358739 movies a day. (I think I’ve watched at least 16 movies in the last 3 days (I complain about this with a heavy heart, because I love movies  </3).) And I’ve been in a terrible mood because of it. It’s like I was trapped in cell I’d created for myself. Like I was the prisoner and the jailer all at once. Which is terrible because, I mean, you have the key, JUST OPEN THE CELL. But noooooo, we want to sit here and wallow in self-pity, and bitterness, and over-think things, and force ourselves into this weird existential crisis as we continue to be stubborn and sad and restless about our captivity, and this all could have easily been avoided had you just listened to yourself, and opened the cell in the first place.

Tonight, I’ve had enough.
Tonight, I broke out of my cell. It wasn’t hard really. I reached the “I can’t take this anymore” stage of waiting, which makes doing things not that hard because at least it’s getting you somewhere away from where’ve you’ve been. And after pacing around upstairs, trying to figure out what to do with myself, I decided to look for my camera charger, which has been missing since, I believe (Buzz still hasn’t replied to confirm), 2013.

3 years. And I found it in 5 minutes. It’s amazing what you can do when you put your mind to it. I’ve tried looking for that charger before, and, obviously, have always failed. I had to contact friends to make sure I didn’t somehow leave it at one of their houses. (OKAY, I only asked Buzz but that’s only because I lost it after being at hers.) I had to continually look in dusty drawers that are filled to the brim with random things that are neither lost nor found, and that I only ever open every once-in-a-while. And it was all of if ALL FOR NOTHING, because it turns out the charger was in a bag I haven’t used since 2013.

Tbf to myself, I only thought to look in the bag because I’ve recently realized that I have tendency to leave things in my purses. I realized this when I found a lipstick I’ve been looking for in a bag I haven’t used for a while. I don’t why I had it in my head that I empty my bags when I’m not using them, but, apparently, I don’t. (The brain is a weird organ, but that is a topic for a later time. Or, perhaps, never. I have a hard time making sense of my own mind, which I’ve had my whole life, never mind making sense of brains in general. I think we can all agree that brains just don’t make sense.)  So, with that in mind, when I set out to look for the charger, I thought: “What bag was I using when I went to Buzz’s house that day?”


Here we are. My camera’s battery is now charging right next to me as I type this whilst sitting on a couch. Right back where I started. Granted, it is a different couch than the one I escaped my cell from, but that’s a minor detail. And I can’t help but feel like I’ve earned my spot on this one for the time being.

Freedom is but a state-of-mind.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s