Some days it is simply very difficult to get out of bed. I am aware of how cliched that statement is, however I continue to marvel at the recurrence of such a phenomenon.

There isn’t a particular reason today was hard above all days. I try to justify it by saying that is is cloudy outside which isn’t really happy-inducing. Perhaps I didn’t get enough sleep last night. Maybe, just maybe, I was sleepwalking all over town playing cricket and swimming laps, planting trees and saving some whales.

Perhaps it is the notion of heading to work after two deliriously lazy days spent upping my culture intake and ignoring all responsibility. Maybe I haven’t been eating correctly and my body is sluggishly warning me to get in line or forget about the existence of a thing called energy.

I tell myself that I have it easy. Life is good. I am alive, I am fed and watered and sheltered. I have a brain I am fairly adept at using efficiently and all of my limbs work when I decide I want them to. I have a quirky family that keep me constantly amazed at their individuality and friends that make me laugh no matter the circumstance.

I somehow found a person that knows all my glitches yet still accepts me and laughs at my unfunny “jokes”. Said person even engages me in stimulating conversation (hard to find these days).

My dog is pretty cool; I think he may be missing a chromosome but that is okay by me because he is loyal and ridiculous. I am starting study again which is lovely to think about. My employment is beyond great; I am treated with respect and friendliness and my opinion is valued. I am also quite often showered with gifts of food and wine and money.

I am still tired though.

Cloudy days: I shake my right fist at you.