Rangy Manatee

It’s the afternoon. It’s the afternoon and I seriously doubt whether my brain is likely to be functioning on any useful level. It’s an observation gleaned from the beginning of time, that once lunch has been eaten, and you embrace some manner of intellectual, or even physical exertion, the chances are that your mind and faculties; your will and inspiration; your muse and desire; your and so forth, will have packed their collective bags, kissed the wife goodbye and gone to fight in an obscure war for a country with native palm trees.

It’s a desperately sad state of affairs. How often as a student I sat at a desk between the hours of one and four in the afternoon, idling away my time in total frustration. Rare were the times I could appreciate what was achieved.
Even now, writing this, I am struggling to find the words, forcing this out. It isn’t natural.
In fact, such is my lack of enthusiasm and boredom, I think I may go sulking into my day.

No, I can’t leave. Not just yet. I’ve achieved nothing here. I have done nothing with my day. I’m a busy person and yet a late start, the thought of a shift at work later, and a typical afternoon slump has ruined my day.

What can be done? Caffeine? I suppose so. I could nip down and watch some dark brown grains mix up with hot water and wait for my nervous system to restore some sense of heightened normality. A little clarity perhaps. I don’t want to burn out to quickly today. I have a long and busy evening ahead. I’m gonna need a lot of normality then.

So, I will sustain myself in this drooping sag of a day by ambling along, mildly depressed and completely lacking in everything.