The Lethargy Inherent to the Absence of Rules

I am restless. 

Gotta start out with those nice declarative statements.  In the very far distance behind layers of trees I see someone swinging like a human pendulum on what I assume is a tire swing.  Steadily back and forth.  Content.

I am itching to do something, but cannot focus.  I made breakfast.  I toured IMDb.  I checked both my e-mails and facebook.  I looked at my list of things to do and things I want to do and can find no motivation to start or complete any of them.  I haven’t even showered yet.

Currently, I am looking out my window at the bright clouds and the dark trees and feeling angsty about nothing in particular, and that is the worst sort because it cannot be pinned down, and therefore cannot be remedied.

It is becoming increasingly aggravating that when I am awake, everyone I want to converse with is asleep.  I am disproportionately irritated this morning, and even the fact that I am irritated irritates me.  This is a cyclical restlessness, and it compounds interest every time I pass “Go” and fail to collect $200.

Even my analogies are irritating me.

At the rise of the far hill, behind a large power line, the sun is backlighting the clouds.  The gray mass around it moves steadily eastward, away from the far ocean’s windy influence, and the scene, sans power line, seems like a scene from an epic movie: the dawn breaking over the hill of battle.  Mel Gibson should be riding up any moment yelling, “Freedom!”

Maybe I’ll make more coffee.  Or sketch something.  I do love my new sketchbook.  Or read Ovid’s Metamorphosis.  Except, damn, I haven’t got it yet.  I could read Genesis, like I am supposed to.  Or start on my essay, except I am supposed to read Metamorphosis and Genesis before I can compare and contrast their essential creation account characteristics.  So that’s out.

I could work on Amelia and the Piper or continue to form the outline for Rave or read Kaleb Tuttle’s script 6 Chambers which I started earlier this morning and got distracted from by the need for coffee, or I could read the next two chapters of the book my brother is writing, or I could lament, yet again, the loss of my camera, which is grown heavier by the day as I keep seeing things that I wish I could take with me, things I know I will forget.  I could move so my left leg is no longer trapped under my right and therefore falling asleep.

There.  Done.  Success.

I think the problem is that my time here is so structureless.  Besides the two tutorial meetings per week, plus the 1-hour faith and learning colloquiam, every other hour of the day is my own to do with as I will, and that is simply too much freedom.  Without restriction of time or place, without rules, I am helpless.  I must have them in order to produce anything.  What a weird conundrum. 

And the rules I am trying to set for myself are failing miserably.  Three mornings in a row, I have set my alarm to get me up before 9am.  Three mornings in a row I have turned my alarm off and opted for sleep, knowing that there was always more time to work.

Gosh, I’m whiny.  Maybe if I get out of my pajamas, I will feel more obligated to work.  Remaining in them gives me a visual excuse for lethargy.

Okay.  Step one: shower.  Or rather, bath, since I don’t have a shower.  Step two: clothing.  Step three: more coffee.  Step four: search for books I need online.  Step five: real work of some kind.

Good plan.