Is it a throwback to childhood tantrums? Is it a delayed adolescent rebellion? Or the influence of all the protests and demonstrations I’ve witnessed over the years? Could it be good old fashioned spring fever?
I don’t know the answer, but the days have turned from frigid to sultry in a matter of seconds and my brain is suddenly in a tropical heat wave. I’m like a person living near the equator, who moves more slowly, takes my time, and is not bothered by much, because it takes too much energy to rustle up an argument.
Or maybe I’m lazy. Or my mind is vacationing. Or I need a change of scenery. But I feel as if I am coasting along without direction or inspiration.