Slow days

Lately I’ve been feeling…lethargic. Not sad or down and blue. Just that. Lethargic.
It’s amazing how some words can really capture what you truly feel. In this case, what I’m truly in. It’s a state. Not the one where you could frolic or go shopping around in.

It’s a not-so-good state…being lethargic.

There’s nothing wrong really. So I tell myself that’s its not right to be sad.
Or down, nor blue.

But lethargic, yes, I can be lethargic.

It’s a sorry excuse for my mediocre existence. I’m lethargic, so I’m mediocre. Or should it be the other way around? Could be.

In my younger, more idealistic days, I’ve always said that I wanted each day to be a fight against mediocrity. Each day should be better than the last. If I can’t do anything with the day, at least do something with myself. Better. Be better.

Now, I open my eyes to the sound of my brother’s voice (yes, I don’t use an alarm clock. Thanks kuya for the daily favor) and say to myself, is it Friday yet?

Well, not always. Sometimes I think, “Get up, get up, please”
And sometimes I pray, “Lord, please, make this a happy day”

But you see, the previous days weren’t sad at all. No tragedy, no sickness, nothing to cause anyone utmost poverty.

They just make me lethargic.

And lately, I’ve been growing even more (for the nth time) le…thar…gic.
It’s alarming.