Uninspired. That is me. For right now, anyway. So, I sit on my couch, and sink further and further, both into the couch and into my uninspired state. Oh, I am sure I have been here before. But, my amnesia of the difficult times keeps me from hints of a potential path out. So, I sit. And wait. For something. A thought. A sight. A memory. A smell. A something. Anything. Nothing yet. Nope. Not a thing. Not one morsel. Not one loose thread for me to tug at and unwind.