sloths

Today, I make sloths look good. Look productive, look as if they don’t swing from trees all day and contemplate not much at all. Today, last night, at the moment, I make swinging from trees look hyper-productive.

I always do this.

I get to a certain point in the day job and I just can’t do much more than get through the day. Nights are for couch sitting and admiring those that find the energy to swing from trees. And we dare to call them sloths? I’m so lazy they haven’t even invented a name for me yet. I have the need, I just don’t have the motivation.

And yet, I did the strangest thing a couple of nights ago. I came home from work, got changed, poured myself a glass of wine and sat in front of my bookshelf, pulling out and reading snippets from my university theatre textbooks. I don’t know why I did this. I have no idea why I had to do it at that very moment, but that’s what I did. And I want to do more of it, but I can’t even swing from trees. And, you know, I still have that play to finish.