Lethargy

I first encountered the word "lethargic" when I was in sixth grade. In Accelerated Lit class, we were reading "The Phantom Tollbooth," and the word was used to describe the inhabitants of the Doldrums. I remember being intrigued by this new word, such an apt and onomatopoeic description of a sluggish soul. I was particularly affected by the word because it gave a name to much of what I had been feeling in sixth grade. Our Accelerated Lit classroom was particularly warm because our teacher, Mrs. Poppen, would not bow to our requests to turn the temperature down. She was a bit of a curmudgeon, which was another word I learned that year. For whatever reason, our classroom remained stifling, and the combination of oppressive warmth and as yet un-challenging literature made me rather lethargic that year. My head would nod, my eyes would get heavy, my mind would wander into the land of unicorns and waterfalls, and then Mrs. Poppen would shout my name and I was back in Thousand Oaks.

I am now in LA. It is a Saturday afternoon, and after a heavy rain yesterday, the swollen, gray clouds drag the unsuspecting blue down with them. I say this not in judgment of the clouds; on the contrary, I am quite fond of them. They seem pretty cool, for clouds. But they are heavy with importance. They have something on their minds. The rest of the sky has no idea what is going on, but the clouds...they know. I think they are conspiring to distract me. Today, more than ever, I feel lethargic. There is no Mrs. Poppen to verbally smack me, and the clouds are taking over. They are moving in like an army, sending in a few scattered wisps as scouts, then advancing as an impenetrable unit.

The sun is in cahoots with them. He is staying far away, hiding behind some bluff while he lets the clouds do their work. He retreats deeper and deeper to avoid condemnation. The wind is helping too! Why do they encourage the clouds so? What offense have I committed that would merit this assault? Moon, stars, why do you not show yourselves? You have ever been my friends and allies. You comfort and protect me when the pressure is on, a solid assurance that you will be there when my work is done. Why are you hiding? The clouds are persistent. They want my attention this very moment, and I must give it to them.

The sun dares show his face, his treachery revealed! The jig is up. No hope of nighttime now. He sends his feelers through my window and creeping onto my desk...a gentle beckoning. I close my eyes, turn my face, lay my head down on the desk. Lethargy is luscious.