Lethargy

Every day for the past four or five weeks I wake up, and my first instinct is to head to the couch. My days without a paying job mean that I am under no necessary obligation to move. I mean this in a very literal and visceral sense. In the absence of any other concrete societal responsibility, the entirety of my days have become hyper focused on the series of tiny bodily movements, gestures, and muscular contractions that make up my day. Some examples:

1. A look out to the setting sun in the sky will inspire the thought to head out to the balcony to write for a little, read, or simply just sit and observe the people below taking their dogs for a walk. However this mental decision to move outside signals a momentous event for the muscles, tendons, and bones that make up my languorous and supine body. The slight (but consciously present) straining of my quads and glutes that brace to in order to help my stand up from a seated position, for example.
   
   
2. The feeling that my throat feels slightly parched and in need of a drop of water will have me psyching myself up, "better to just get this over and done with instead of trying to put up with this annoyingly dry sensation of a parched mouth" I think to myself as I shove my body upwards and forwards towards the kitchen. What was hitherto a more or less automatic movement to a sensation (thirst), now requires convincing of its relative benefits to remaining in a vegetative state.
   
   
3. After getting myself psyched up to go for a jog (including caffeine), it started to rain. I had thought to myself that the idea of running in the rain was one that I should aspire to, but the comfort of staying dry prevailed and the idea of it remains exactly that.