Motivation. Or the lack thereof

by Ashish

Do you remember the horribe, sinking feeling you got as a kid, when you were woken up by a snappy, ill-tempered mum?

And you looked out the window, and it was dark and gray and gloomy.

And just when you sat up in bed and rubbed your eyes, it started to pour. And pour and pour and pour?

And blerrrrgggggh?

Tough days, those.

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