Treacle

A dreich day; wind still, humid, warm, indeed the ever bickering jackdaws are silent. Everything feels ever so slightly dissociated, and even coffee #3 cannot cut through the treacle. I ought to write. Nae. I want to write. Yet I ended up shoving paragraphs around the page trying to establish some sort of order that can be understood outside of my brain.

The hardest part of writing is to translate internal consistency to the outside world. 

Well, what do you do if your brain is stuck in treacle and you ought to write; nae; want to write? You think out loud in a blog post in the hope someone who might also be stuck in treacle stumbles across and feels ever so slightly better. Just as my colleagues did when I shared the treacle day on MS Teams.

I was trying to listen to a very chipper podcast, in which a very chipper person reminded the listener that the journey is the destination. [Insert a very Weegie response here.] I did. I even managed the Scottish twang. This journey is not destinationing and currently has her feet stuck in treacle, staring at various mind-maps and to do lists. It tried to find a fix for de-treacle-fication. You know these tips you get about how to remove chewing gum from hair/clothes … butter helps or oil or something.

How to remove the brain from treacle? 

Move! You could try some salsa! No not the sauce! If you are new to it. Here is an option

Not your cup of tea? How about gentle chair yoga?

Or you could try 5 minute art … this is a playlist with 5 minute art breaks

or go for a stroll (or whatever your equivalent is).

What else do you do to jiggle yourself free from treacle?