As if incarcerated within a plaster cast of oneself, ennui is an acutely immobilising ailment. Ask not, as John Kennedy might have mused on a particularly dreary Sunday morning, what your body can do for your mind, but what your mind can do for your body. The answer, apparently, is absolutely nothing at all at the moment. And why should it? So many times through this life the mind has been willing but the body been unable. So I think we can allow the mind to wear the pants for a little while, even if it only wants to take them off and lounge around on the couch all day.