Inertia: the resistance of any physical object to a change in its state of motion or rest.
I am at rest and I am heavily resisting any sort of change. I’m basically that episode of Friends where Joey and Chandler never leave their armchairs.
It’s probably a good thing because if I left the house, I’d just go to the mall and spend money I don’t have. Don’t talk to me about online shopping! I have an allergic reaction to paying for shipping, especially when it’s a store I could go to in person.
My mom, St. Gramma, came to my house yesterday and took over. She sat next to me and rubbed my back and forced me to nap. She let me be depressed, wiped my tears, played with my Annabel and allowed me to turn off my mind. I needed that. And then when I woke up she told me to get in the damn shower because I smelled awful. I needed that, too.
So now I’m clean, and after an hour of careful brushing and a gallon of detangler, my hair no longer has dreadlocks. I might have put pajamas back on, but at least they were a different pair. Progress!
When Mike came home, my mom told us to go out to dinner, just the two of us. The idea of food intrigued me, and the thought of a meal with my husband without saying, “Annie don’t pull up your shirt. Annie our hands don’t go in our pants” was enticing. But staying in my pajamas was also appealing. I was at rest. There was no moving me. I told my mom and Mike to blame Sir Isaac Newton. That didn’t really fly, and soon I left the house for the first time in four days.
And it was nice.
I might even leave it again tomorrow, Sir Isaac Newton be damned.