inertia

It's a grey day here in Baltimore, and the dreaded Playgroup Creeping Crud virus has cycled from my 17-month old daughter through my wife and to me. The malaise is stifling; I can't seem to get enough caffiene in me to get motivated to get anything done. I'm plowing through rewrites with all the enthusiasm of the undead.

It doesn't help any that I just came back from vacation; my circadian rhythms are not in alignment with the work day again yet. Part of me wants to haul out that brand new Gary Fisher bike I bought last Monday and pedal as far from my desk as I can. Then again, there's that creeping crud.

The sun peeks through the now smoke-free sky. My third iced coffee of the day is trying to kick in. Maybe there's hope.

But, alas, it's almost 4:00 PM. And the inertia's still there.

Now playing on the dot.communist: Headline Haiku. Play along at home!