I feel like somehow an elemental form of chaos has invaded my life in viral, albeit subconscious, form and I can’t seem to fight it off. Time slips through my fingers at an alarming rate [it is almost May!] producing little but distractions and ennui. I have no energy nor focus for any significant task. Everything I own seems dinged up or in need of repair and/or cleaning but the process of rectifying this seems an insurmountable obstacle. Every book I pick up seems flat. I can’t work up the desire to review the books I have read. Television annoys me. Sports hold no attraction. Social media seems like a waste of time and yet I continue to waste giant chunks of time surfing through it, alternating frustration and boredom. I cry out to be entertained, enlightened, or thrilled but find an endless sea of bland mediocrity. Mojo status: lost.