Syrup and Molasses

Four days off and I am lazy like syrup and molasses.  I dream of days off and all that I will do, then nothing.  I watched both World Cup games yesterday and thought it fun.  At night, I watched three episodes of "Entourage."  I thought that fun, too.  I told myself that I was tired, overworked, and that I needed a day like that, a day off.  But today is looking much the same.  I want to document "the 4th," but I don't think I will.  I don't want to speak to people right now.  I'd rather be alone.  And so I am.  Utterly.  

There are celebrations all around me, but I do not feel like celebrating.  I think I want to do nothing more than lay upon my couch.  That should be the starting point for a contemplative essay that explores something seemingly universal, illustrating the laziness of nature or the slowness of cosmic happenings.  And those things are true.  A cat rarely does anything.  A bear.  They are masters, of course, much different than the small, edible things like guppies in the stream that runs by my house.  I would have to research all that, but I am being lazy like a bear.  And, indeed, in the cosmos, things do not happen over time but in a flash.  A comparative flash, anyway.  The cosmos is more sudden that we think.  

And if I were not so lazy and were to write it, the essay would return after its explorations and reveries to the couch where I would resolve to spend another day in preparation doing nothing that is something.  Truly, only guppies would be rushing around today.