Nothing Doing

I am sitting on my couch nursing the flu looking out at the rain with a hot cup of tea. It’s quiet with the exception of the occasional sneeze from yours truly. I have quarantined myself from the world and here I sit trying to come up with something significant to say with nothing but sawdust and silly putty for brains. Pale face, pajamas at 2 pm, red under my nose.

The rain falls gently on the roof and everything looks sleepy outside. Nowhere to go, nothing to do. I wriggle my toes inside my slippers, have a sip of tea. Look out the window again, look up as if to inquire whether a deep thought has arrived yet…no, unfortunately not.

There is a certain happy peacefulness that I feel on days like today. Maybe it’s because I am actually supposed to be a lazy, good-for-nothing couch potato. Maybe it’s because I can’t think properly, if at all, like enforced meditation. Sneezing Zen. It’s days like today where;

1. I don’t care what I look like,
2. I don’t care about accomplishing anything,
3. I don’t care to think deeply or understand anything remotely complex,
4. All I care about is how soft my pillow and blanket is, and whether it’s worth the effort to put the kettle on again.

So here is the moral of the story: Sometimes if you are trying too hard and nothing seems to be working, the best thing to do is just throw up your hands and forget about it for a while. Enjoy the little things. The rest will sort itself out in it’s time.

In honor of this conclusion, I am off to watch the most cheesy low budget movie I can possibly find.

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