It’s dark and gloomy outdoors.
It’s partly cloudy indoors. I have these marvelous plans, but I must be patient about realizing them. The weather itself makes one lethargic. A dog is whining again — not the big dog. Now it’s the little dog. The big dog is asleep.
I could fall asleep. It is great sleeping weather. It’s a chore staying awake. It’s one of those grey wet days when Nature persuades you — nearly — that this is what eternity looks like. I could swear that time has slowed down. Physicists should study this phenomenon to learn whether time creeps by more slowly on dismal, damp, grey days.
Well, they would if they could, I guess. But any physicist brought into this situation would feel the effects himself. Sleeping physicists can tell you nothing.
So whence motivation? Where does energy come from? It’s a rabbit. And you pull it out of a hat.