Stagnant

Have you seen a bucketful of water, or just a large body of standing water? If theres a hole in the surface of that bucket, the water rushes out. It rushes out, all the water trying to escape at once. It forms a mini-cyclone, gushing out but the top of the bucket appears still. The water on top is still, until all the water in the bucket is out, and only then the top stirs, and follows suit.
I'm lying down here, having passed my deadlines and extensions without handing over any assignments. I hate it. I am increasingly disliking who I've become. Lazy, incompetent, unreliable, under motivated. My fingers are too heavy to type so I might leave this at that. If my fingers stop feeling like boulders, i will explain someday how the rest of my feels crushed. My body feels like the bed is lying on top of it. My skull feels like its made of bricks and cement. Heavy, too heavy for my neck, burdened under its own weight. I love winter. My skin is ice. My insides are fire. It makes my head hurt and my eyes droop and my stomach churn and my throat burn and my lungs heave. But my face is expressionless. I am stagnant.
Not my usual eloquence, or thinking, but I've been short on original thoughts and ideas lately. Even the 'breakthroughs' I think I have are wrong.