Inertia

Sitting, thinking about doing. But not doing. Its a scourge, isnt it! How powerful a well of gravity there appears to be in the continuing state of inactivity.
It is a rainy evening and I have done little all day. I could go to the gym. I could go out for a run. But somehow the situation holds me in a grasp of apathy. I sit. I put the telly on. I have a beer. Well, after alcohol, no point in thinking about the gym or running, is there?

I sit in the office. I need to write an email about some stuff or other that requires a bit of research but somehow, moving from this grey equilibrium of comfortable stupor seems an insurmountable obstacle. I need to get up and walk across the building to talk to an engineer about some device or other. But It means stopping my music halfway through a track and oh, why don't i just have mooch through my inbox for a bit longer, or look up the weather forecast?

And so it goes on: Why don't I join a dance class. Yes I will! On Tuesday, i will go down to the Pavillion i Bath and dance. And Tuesday comes and, oh, its been a long day, I am too tired. Maybe I will just read the paper for a bit. Oh look, its too late to go now. Oh well, never mind.

Only I did join that dance class. I do go on tuesday evenings and it is bloody marvellous.

I think inertia is the main force that stops us doing things. What is it abou the current state one finds oeself in, assuming it is not too uncomfortable, that prevents us from rising from it and doing something more stimulating? Laziness? Indolence?
But it happens and it is pervasive, pernicious.

So, I am going to get up off my arse and go to my yoga class.
Yes.

Cornwall

You would have thought that in the course of two weeks in August, the sun would shine reliably and warmth would be available for at least a couple of days, wouldn't you? It seem not in Cornwall. A week and a half has brought rain, cool temperatures, and now gusty winds that move the clouds skidding across the sky like they are hurrying somewhere to drop their load of rain on some other poor unfortunates.
Only, on their way, they are dropping quite a lot of it here.
It was very busy on the roads yesterday. We popped to Bodmin to shop in Siansbury's, it being the only supermarket we can buy food in where there isnt "May contain traces of nuts" on absolutely everything, including flour, fizzy water and porridge.
The roads were pretty choked and i wonder at how the locals cope with this. It would drive me mad. I know that economically, tourism and farming seem to be the mainstays, but having the road outside your front door full of bike-bedecked people carriers all day must be a bit of a drag.
And so it continues to rain. What to do? Well, the Camel trail was lovely, but after a while the mud built up so thickly between the mudguard and wheels that they wouldn't really go round.
But what a beautiful trail! Makes the Bath/Bristol path look positively suburban.
And the sea! Oh, I had forgotten just how clear the water is here compared to further up towards Bristol. The blue translucence allows the sea bed to be seen until quite a long way out.
The weever fish was a bit of a surprise. I had not realised that British waters held such a nasty little surprise. I have been bitten by adders and this was more painful that that.
I did let loose every expletive i could muster which actually, does help. swearing does have a slight analgesic effect which is not to be underestimated as a source of relief.
I wil always, henceforth, wear something on my feet when paddling, to avoid experiencing the sting of the weever fish.
And so, as the wind howls arounf the nrodic lodge which is home for two weeks, threatening to distribute the plastic outdoor furniture across the cornish countryside, I consider what today may bring. What does one do in a place where outdoors is the value proporistion, and outdoors is uninviting due to inclement weather?
Bugger it! I am going in the sea anyway!