doggy-paddling in a sea of molasses

although that may sound a bit yummy, that is beside the point.

good god.

no matter what i have done today, i feel like i'm moving at a speed too slow to be recorded. too slow, perhaps, for others to even notice the movement at all.

i have eaten well. i have had much water to drink. i even got a nice, full, 8 hours of sleep.

it seems today i am destined to be exhausted. and on that same note, a terrible employee.

it is all i can do to keep my head up.

all i can do to not fall asleep while i drive the long and tortuous (i'm joking! i'm joking!) 2 miles home.

once home, i will attempt to work out for the 4th day in a row. i know. i feel like applauding, myself. but i have a feeling that, if my bedroom were a metaphor, it would be a kitchen. the bed would be the fridge, and i, a helpless magnet.

maybe a letter magnet. i have a feeling i know what letter i would be...

...zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...