Gradually over the last four years, I have succumb to this force. I no longer am a "go-getter", I frequently dread leaving the house to go to work, and I would prefer to sit on the couch, drink a few (or 20) beers, and stay in on the weekend, over going out and joining the "amateur drunks" (thanks mom!) at the bar. I blame seasonal depression to a point. The fact that it's dark and wintry for 7 months a year here does not help. But I now wonder if it's more than this. Some unknown force is sucking the life out me. Just like slipping on the road when I am driving, or cruising at a neck-breaking 35 miles per hour behind 8 cars with grandmas driving, I am going nowhere fast.
Enough self-loathing for now. More later to be sure!