Why is it that we spend so much time finding a way to not do the things that make us happiest? I love it when I'm working away on a writing project. But it gets harder and harder to muster the energy to begin work on a given day. I mean, I do it. I just wonder why it requires so much effort to begin doing it. I suppose that goes for other highly pleasurable activities, these of a more domestic nature, that I love once I'm in the flow but somehow regard as only remotely possible when I'm still fighting against the current. Better go read Beyond the Pleasure Principle again to remind myself of the deeper issues in play -- or is it "at work" -- in our resistance to the path of least resistance. You can do a lot worse than a compulsion to repeat the study of that brilliant book.