The Secret to Motivation

"I'm boooooored," was the theme of the day. Zero inspiration.

I woke up past noon, in a weird angle because the cat was on my leg. That doesn’t allow me to move so I often get back pain. It was a blah day. I knew I should write more blog posts for this website. Even the self-imposed deadline didn’t really help. I wasn’t in the mood to share a story with you assholes. It’s getting old. 

I poured myself a second cup of coffee and forced myself to the desk. I looked at my window. My neighbour across the streets was raking away the leaves. They looked slightly damp, even though I don’t remember it raining. Halloween is over. I noticed the trees are more bare than they were a week ago. Like cancer patients. Ready for winter. 

I retreated back to the couch and continued the Argentinean show my friend recommended. I refreshed the page on my ex’s new person’s Instagram anonymous viewing story for the 31st time that day. Seeing what she’s up to normally gives me this sick thrill, but today I just sighed. I finished the Indian leftovers, I moved to the red couch and back to the grey one, back to red, over to the Nutella jar, eaten straight with a spoon. Music wasn't working. I picked up the ukulele to sing along to "Dreams" by Fleetwood Mac. My voice fell flat, in both the literal and metaphorical sense. I thought about day drinking but even wine couldn’t brighten the ennui. 

The one thing I really did feel I should do is move. I did not work out yesterday. Today, I didn’t even the leave the house. I want to keep my hot body intact to keep my exes forever repentful and jealous. But…I didn’t want tooooo. 

So I resorted to what I do when I’m in this mood. 

One.

Step.

At. 

a.
Time.

“Fine,” I told myself, “Don’t work out. Just open a new tab and find a workout video. Just do that.”

I found an easy 10-minute full body session by MadFit. Perfect. I wanted to work all the muscles with minimum ambition. Just to burn off all the restaurant crap I’d been stuffing myself with for the past few days. 

I still didn’t want to do it. “Fine,” I told myself, “Don’t work out. Just put on your workout pants.”

I didn’t feel like doing that either, so I said, “Okay, just take off the sweats you’re wearing now,” and so on, until I found myself doing a plank on the mat. 

And just to add, if a 10-minute exercise feels too long, start off with committing to two minutes and take it from there. That’s the way. 

Now I’m all showered. I put away the Nutella, refreshed kitty’s litter box, did a quick vacuum, and finished this post. 

Should I go get some wine to pair with this ennui?