You arrive dressed as something else.
A quick check.
A necessary break.
One more thing that feels more urgent than the thing I sat down to do.
I used to think you were laziness.
Now I see you more clearly.
You show up most often when the task feels unclear, or too big, or likely to prove something I am not ready to know.
—
You are not always the enemy.
Sometimes you are protecting me from starting something I have not yet decided is worth finishing.
Sometimes you are simply tired of being asked to push when rest is what is actually needed.
—
The difference is whether I notice you before the day is gone.
When I name you, the choice becomes simpler.
Stay with the discomfort for ten minutes.
Or admit that today is not the day and choose something smaller instead.
—
Either way, the pretending ends.
And that is usually enough to move.
