The sloth moves at four hundred feet per hour and has never once apologized for it. Algae grows on its fur. Moths live in that algae, laying eggs, running their whole tiny lives in the fur of something that hasn't hurried since the Eisenhower administration. It descends the tree once a week to relieve itself, on the ground, where the owls and the jaguars are, and nobody knows why it takes the risk. Scientists call this the "sloth's paradox." The sloth calls it Tuesday.

Some Indigenous Amazonian legends say the sloth was sent by the gods to teach patience, and that it moves slowly because it's still listening to instructions nobody else waited around to hear. Supposedly it can hold its breath for forty minutes underwater. Supposedly its grip is strong enough to keep it hanging from a branch after it has died. It does not let go. It was never going to let go.

You already know what kind of week you've had. Buy the shirt.