Propulsive

1 June 2010

Recently, I have needed a rocket up my arse on a Monday morning; or something similarly propulsive. I just can’t get going. I was half an hour late last Monday, 25 minutes late today. Admittedly if I plotted this on a graph I would be able to suggest that I was on an upward trend, but there’s no denying it’s a bit shit.

I’m trying to think of reasons why this may be. I’m not a morning person anyway. I think fellow non-morning people have a bit too much of their reptile brain at work and, despite having naturally warmed blood, stagger about in the expectation of needing a few hours sitting on a rock before they can do anything useful. My pesky mammalian competitors, on the other hand, are bounding about catching sluggish moths long before I’ve managed to open a bottle of Lucozade.

Come to think of it, I always am rather cold in the mornings. Maybe I should try catching things with my tongue, or shutting my eyes and seeing if I can detect mice through body heat alone. There might be something in this.