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Some days I am like a cheetah, other days like a sloth.
Some days I fly out of the den at breakneck speed, knocking down anything and anyone in the way of my chosen destinations: namely, my errands, the gym, my to-do list, volunteer appointments, school meetings, etc. (don't worry, I don't knock over my kids or smash into other cars in the carpool line, yet!)
I barely stop to breathe or re-fuel, but continue my focused attack on all that needs to be done.
And then there are the sloth days. like today. Interesting facts about sloths, they move soooo slooowwwlyy, they even grow green fungi on their fur from sitting in one place for so long. hmm, I'd better watch for that on my self... And a sloth will hang out in the trees, constantly nibbling leaves, and only come down to use the bathroom, and that's only once a week! (ok, well, I couldn't quite wait THAAAT long!!, LOL!!) Anyway so today was one of those days when I could barely drag myself to walk a whole ten steps in succession, to get to the fridge, and even lifting the coffee mug to my lips seemed a major effort. I lay around, performing mundane tasks at the lowest RPM possible, like the "33" speed on an old vinyl record player. (remember those things? not, oops, i'm old...) Gym workout? nah, my body is still recovering from the last time, gotta be nice to myself today. My to-do list? yawn, roll over and take another nap. Live in jammies or sweats till 2 pm. Any required trip outside the house seems like an appalling demand on my precious time. Even a jaunt to the grocery store is a joke. I waddle along behind the cart, taking in all the sights and sounds like a hippie on LSD, overwhelmed by the visual stimuli. oh wow, man, look at the pretty hue of those mangoes... And then I start wondering about all the strange people around me and begin hypothesizing about their lifestyles. hmmm, this lady is obviously very OCD, look at the way she lines up her cans of tomato sauce in her cart, all labels facing the same way. And look at that guy, is he really going to eat all that garbage? I'll give him a life expectancy of about 53, he'll die of cardiac arrest while choking on a donut wrapped in bacon and slathered with chocolate frosting. ew.
ok, that was exhausting. my fingers are conspiring to kill me once i'm asleep. which will be any minute-zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
