10 03 2010


[in-ur-shuh, ih-nur]

1. inertness, esp. with regard to effort, motion, action, and the like; inactivity; sluggishness.

2. Physics. the property of matter by which it retains its state of rest or its velocity along a straight line so long as it is not acted upon by an external force.


I’ve been moving and going (and going and moving) straight since last July when we went to France, and then of course all of the stuff with mother that followed immediately thereafter. Even to the point of traveling 3 out of 4 weeks in January. I had a trip in February too, but for the most part I’ve been able to coast to a gentle crawl and catch my breath for a moment. (If you count ignoring all the stuff that’s backpiled up at the house, which frankly I’m still woefully behind on.) I even slowed down enough that the cooties finally caught up to me, and I’m now finishing up coughing up my second lung.

But now I really do need to get moving again. But all I really want to do is sit still, close my eyes, and be. Not for a day. Not for a week even. More like a year or more would be a nice start. But I also know that’s not good for me either (I’m doing my talk-to-yourself-like-you’re-a-third-party thing here), and a little bit of steady forward progress would probably be the best medicine. I’ve been the hare, I need to woo my inner turtle.

For now, inertia’s a bitch. Even though I know what I need to do, and once I’m going, inertia will again be my friend, but it’s just the Getting Started that’s killin’ me. I guess I’ll have to light a fire under my own ass.

Where’d I put those matches?




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