From now on, I vow to move very slow. Everything that I do, I will do in slow-motion.
When it's time to wake up and go to work, my alarm clock shall ring, but instead of leaping up and whacking it several times with my fist and then throwing it against the wall to get it to shut up, I will open my eyelids slowly, one at a time, and then raise my right arm slowly until it is positioned directly above the ringing clock, and then gently and slowly I will press its "alarm stop" button. Then I will rise from bed and dress myself slowly: I will pull each pant-leg on, and don my business suit, very slowly, over the top of my pajamas. Next I will shower.
Then, I'll rent a slow car so that I can drive to work. Of course, I'll walk on foot to the rental place very slowly. Concerned drivers will pull over to the shoulder, despite the fact that they're in a hurry, and ask me "What's wrong? Why are you on the side of the road, standing still? Do you need a lift? If so, hop in." And I will smile slowly and reply: "I'm not standing still; I'm simply walking very slowly to the vehicle rental shop. From there, I will slowly drive to work. I'll be fine; thanks for your concern. Now go in peace." Then I will begin to move my hand before their face to make the sign of the cross, very slowly, but the driver will lose patience and zoom away before I finish.
I will perform my work very well, at a very slow pace. Nobody will be able to complain that I am slacking off: they might shake their heads at my speed, but they must inwardly admit that I'm completing all the tasks that I was assigned, and the quality level of my work is undoubtedly excellent.
At the end of my workday, I will return my rental car to the rental place. — By the way, in order to decide which type of car to rent, I asked an online search engine "What is the slowest car in the world?" and I recieved the following answer: "As of the year 2021, the slowest car in existence is a coupe manufactured by Peel Engineering; it is called the Peel P50." — So, at the end of my workday, I will return my Peel P50 to the rental place, and as I drive very slowly into the lot, the night watchman will greet me like so:
"Bryan Ray, welcome! Good to see you again! Sorry but everyone's gone home; the shop's closed till morning; I'm the only one here. You're late again; don't you know that you're supposed to have your vehicle back by midnight of the day that you checked it out? Now they'll charge you for an extra day of rental. Please park the vehicle over yonder by those stacks of heavy canisters, and try not to knock anything over."
Then I will drive extremely slowly to the place where the watchman indicated to park; and, in the process, I shall very slowly bump the car into the canisters and knock everything over. Then I will slowly climb out of the car and shrug, as if to say "Oops!" and the night watchman will stare at me with a mock angry look on his face, and shake his head, and wink and then wave his arm dismissively and laugh and say: "Ah, get outta here, you rascal. I'll clean it up." Then he'll smile and say "See you tomorrow!" And I'll turn around and wave very slowly, while I continue my slow trek home.
Eventually, of course, I will get jailed; and I will move so slowly when they're trying to lead me into my cell that the guards will decide to use physical force upon me: so they will shove me in; and, as I'm falling slowly to the floor in my cell, they will lock the barred metal door.
Then, every other week, the rudest guard will come by and fling open all the cell doors and yell "Recess time! Hurry up: this is your bi-weekly chance to go outdoors and walk in circles for a spell." For there shall be a walled-in area with sere grass in back of the jail, where they let us take our exercise. But I'll miss the entire bi-weekly recess period because I will have barely made it halfway thru the threshold of my cell's exit when all the fellow prisoners are already returning from their outdoor recreations; and the guard shall come by and shut all the barred cell-doors violently, locking them in the process. But when the guard comes to MY cell and tries to close its door, it will bang against my shoulder, because, like I explained above, I'm still in the act of leaving for recess-time (that's how slowly I move). This will infuriate the guard, and he will shove my chest with his hand so that I fall back into my cell. And I will descend to the floor very slowly, while he succeeds in his second attempt at slamming the door.
This is why I am so pale: during all my years in prison, I never see sunlight.
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