Ah, motivation. My old nemesis. Where the heck are you?
I’ll tell you where you’re not. You’re not in the bathtub, with the bubbles and the sweet smells. Inspiration can often be found there, relaxation, definitely, but motivation? Nope.
You’re not in that great, beautiful city outside my window. There’s fabulous pub-quizzes, fascinating rambly walks, gorgeous urban vistas to photograph, costumed races and city-wide puzzle hunts, great friends doing great things, but absolutely none of that seems to attract my motivation.
You are on the beach, but there you’re not my motivation, you’re my puppy dog’s. It’s impressive the way she is propelled through the weeds, some mysterious force at her heels forcing her to gleefully leap, and bob, and weave. Oddly, that force passes me right by. Ah, if only I could bob and weave as agilely on paper as she does on the hills of Albany.
You’re not on Hulu. I suppose that goes without saying, but for some reason, that’s where I convince myself I have to look for you first. Like checking for sugar snap peas in the pastry aisle at the grocery store. In fact, you are nowhere to be found on the internets. Believe me, I’ve checked google reader, stumbleupon, facebook, twitter… you ain’t there.
I’m starting to think you don’t actually exist. In fact, I’m sure of it. The only way I can write is to trick myself into not looking for you. Oh, hey look, there’s a blank page on my mac and my fingers are twitching. Might as well…