It doesn’t help that my toothpaste is mocking me. Whilst I can’t really motivate myself to do anything, every morning when I awake, and every night before I go to bed, a whole day gone with nothing achieved, there it is, a tube of toothpaste that just won’t die.
I’ve had it for months now, and it is as flat as it can be. But here’s the thing, with very little effort, it’s possible to squeeze exactly the right amount onto my brush, every damn time. There’s none of that rolling up the tube to force out the dregs, just a simple pinch and slide up its length, and out pops some goo. Green goo. Green minty goo. Green minty goo that is mocking me.
“Ha ha,” it chides, “Look at me, a mere tube of paste, yet I can produce something every day, and you, ostensibly a human, can do nothing but curl up on sofas.”
I’m hoping that writing about it will break the magic, and that when I scrub my gnashers tonight, I’ll have squeezed every last drop of promise and hope from it.
