Rain

There's something so unbelievably energy-zapping about rain. You wake up, notice that it's raining, and immediately want to crawl right back under the covers. Why does rain do this to us? It's just water falling out of the sky.



Right now I am putting up an admirable struggle, treading the line between productivity and defeat. Of course, the fact that I can overhear my dog sleeping soundly in my bed doesn't help. How do I know that he's sleeping? Oh, because my little guy is the loudest snorer I've ever encountered, and with every perfectly-timed snort, an instant message is relayed directly to whatever potion of my brain controls the weakness factor stating "come back to bed, you know you want to." That then causes me to waste time contemplating the benefits of laziness, including soft pillows, warm blankets, and a cuddly, albeit insanely loud dog to hold in my arms while I lounge about.

See, this is the problem with working from home. Your bed is so near yet so very far, and with every moment I spend away from my bed, the more I start to yearn for it. The initially low-grade yearning eventually turns into full-fledged longing, leaving me with no choice but to succumb to my weakness and grant myself a thirty-minute nap, which is precisely what I'm likely to do in a matter of minutes.

However, this type of decision does not come without consequences. I will feel very, very bad about myself for the first few moments. The word "slacker" will surely get smacked around in the forefront of my mind, and with every minute I spend not working during the workday, the more my sense of accomplishment and self-worth will start to moderately degenerate. This will cause me to grow increasingly tired, resulting in an extension of my thirty-minute nap, and so the cycle beings. By the end of the day, I will no doubt feel like a useless sloth, trapped in a whirl of internal berating and disgust.

And yes, I blame all of this on the rain.