All slow or more accurately, laid back. The snail is notorious for his/her lack of speed (as in “at a snail’s pace”), and the tortoise isn’t far behind (or so the hare thinks). Me, I’m pretty quick at work but come the weekend, I’ll have one more cup of tea, read another chapter, draw a little more…or on a good day I’ll bake a brownie, have another cup of tea, read and draw a little more. All of a sudden it’s where has the day gone? And then the guilt for not having done something constructive like housework kicks in. What I fail to realize is that what I did was what made me happy. The housework will get done eventually. I wonder if the snail or the tortoise have these pangs of conscience?