Why is it so hard to stop doing one thing and start another? Even when I dislike the thing I’m doing? My inertia baffles me.
I sometimes lie in bed in the morning reliving dreams of the night before. It’s a miserable way to spend time, but I’m hooked on the drama. I know that getting up and making coffee will dispel the gloom and lift my mood. But do I do it? No. I stay in bed another half hour, hypnotized by my thoughts. .
Or a feeling of angst closes in when the sun goes down. I may have been happy as a clam all day—busy and productive. Then going from daylight to nightfall leaves me uneasy. I could catch the last light of day and take my dog out for a run—an activity that gives us both pleasure. But do I? No. I poke around aimlessly. It’s easier.
Inertia shadows me. I don’t want to move out of the space I’m in just because that’s where I am and it’s easier to stay than to move
It’s crazy. Someone please explain it to me.
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