There once was a june bug named Jitter, whose laziness was exceeded only by his sloth. One June day, as he sat munching merrily on the leaf of a kudzu vine, he remarked to himself, "Jitter Ole Bug, you are in a good place right now. The leaves on this plant are good and plentiful. The kudzu patch is shady and cool. You have everything you need or want. You could waste a lot of energy buzzing around the countryside looking for something better, but there are things out there in the world that divert and capture june bugs--street lights, malicious children, ducks... So, let's just stay right here on this kudzu vine for the rest of the summer and not leave the safety and security of this kudzu patch."
Now everyone knows a kudzu vine grows FAST. So fast that young snails are admonished by their mothers to make sure they have clean underwear on when they leave the house in case they get run over by a speeding kudzu vine. But Jitter sat contentedly munching on the leaves of his kudzu vine, oblivious to the world passing slowly by six inches below his feet. When the weather started to cool along about the end of September, Jitter looked up from his leafy repast and was shocked to find that he was a whole bug world away from where he wanted to stay at the beginning of the summer. The kudzu vine had carried him along and far away from its roots and his desires.
Life is like that.