The Word from the Cave

Sitting here knowing I need to do some schoolwork, but my brain isn't very motivated to get up and start functioning like it's supposed to. The rest of the body isn't helping things. The eyes are going, "Can you like give us a break already?" The fingers are getting sick of having to move around and do my bidding on this keyboard. The legs are feeling rebellious; they want to do what they want to do; it seems like they're sick both of sitting still and of moving.

The eyes command the attention, because if they shut down, it gets very dark. So my fingers take a break from the board and become masseuses for a few seconds. The mouth obeys the command of the tired brain and opens for a nice yawn. The legs start bouncing up and down, tired and restless. Deep down somewhere in my chest cavity, the heart works as rhythmically and methodically as it ever has; good thing, because if it emerged and heard the complaints from the rest of the body, it might decide to just start taking breaks or something. That wouldn't be particularly conducive to my health.

More yawns. The arms stretch and flex, trying to get more comfortable. The fingers drag themselves over the keys, no longer caring to lift themselves up, no longer worried about my blasted typing accuracy.

The brain, perhaps startled into action by the Two Towers battle music emanating from my computer speakers, rouses itself and starts shouting out commands. "Sit up straight! Blink a few times! Type properly! You've got work to do!"

OK. It's right. I settle into the chair, position myself taller, force the fingers to hit the keys high and with pride. It's time to work.

It's Friday, the week before finals. Things are now set in motion that cannot be undone. The body shudders a restless breath and begins.