A Fat Purple Fig

I can’t seem to get up early on this holiday, or even at what might be considered a reasonable time. And it is bothering me…but obviously not enough to do it. Note that I said ‘get up’, and not ‘wake up’. It’s not a matter of setting an alarm, or leaving the curtains open, but of making the effort to follow the path of the righteous. I am carrying the dead weight of resistance, a stone’s throw from spending the rest of the trip eating salt & vinegar chips and watching The Office. There is a battle being waged between my halves: setter and breaker, order and chaos, builder and burn-it-to-the-ground.