Wednesday, September 20, 2023

Being Lazy

Contrary to popular belief, it is not so easy to be lazy. Being truly proficient at lethargy takes years of practice and intense concentration. So many people do not harness the true power of laziness. They spend their lives fighting the inevitability of it by performing yard work, having a paying job, having kids, and shoveling snow, blah, blah, blah. Somehow they delude themselves that doing something, any something, is somehow better than doing nothing. They are so wrong. A certain amount of loafing or as I call it, screwin the pooch, is a necessary and integral part of making a safe and sane passage from the cradle to the grave.

I have proven laziness as a viable and often healthier alternative to being fruitful by my many years of slothful introspection. Being lazy is as important as being the busy beaver. And there is no question about striking a balance between the two. When in doubt about whether to be a worker bee or a slug, always consider the slug first. 

If one wants to really understand the total bliss of laziness without the guilt that usually comes along for the ride, one needs to develop a mindset that assures whatever needs doing today will still need doing tomorrow; so why not put it off until tomorrow? If we skip it today, that which needs doing today ensures our schedule stays full with at least one task that justifies our commitment to laziness. We suffer no empty days if there is always a chore undone. 

Undoing and rescheduling the "to do list" can be a daunting task. One must relax and clear their mind in order to do it right. Doing nothing seems the best approach to make this happen. Over thinking the best way to be lazy quickly becomes counterproductive to keeping one's sphincter un-clinched. Don't agonize, people die stressing too much. A blank mind is almost always the best approach.

It appears I have a natural innate talent for intense torpidity. There is a path of little resistance between my productive mindset and Mike, the couch potato: especially now that I am retired. Convenient excuses to skip work are popping up more and more the older I get. With so much effort put in over the years pursuing laziness, I now can enjoy it without as much shame as I heaped on my shoulders in years past. 

The problem is, now I would like to tip the balance between fruitful behavior and couch potato more to the fruitful side. Because of chronic inactivity in recent years, my body has not been up to the task. But it is beginning to turn around. 

Bottom line here is, ........ no matter which way I live, I will end up dead. So enjoying Life is the main point no matter which way I lean. Any anguishing I might have tortured myself with in years past, well, that was wasted time; which is the worse thing I could do. Way worse than doing nothing.

A parting thought here as I get ready to close this post:

If we were not designed to be lazy, why then did we invent hammocks?

 Keep it 'tween the ditches .............................................................


Tough job picking music associated with being lazy. The first one I picked, "Daydream" by The Lovin Spoonful I thought would be it. But I felt in order to be fair, I needed to continue a token search. A song by a group I lost touch with over the years jumped out at me and forced my hairs to stand on end. "Lazy" on the album "Machine Head" by Deep Purple brought me instantly back to a concert at the DAR Hall in Washington DC when I was really younger and quite a few IQ points dumber.

The concert for me was the poster child perfect concert from the early 1970s. The band played hard and long. The crowd of stoned out freaks danced their way into a frenzy and suddenly I was on the stage stumbling around in time to "Lazy". I blacked out shortly thereafter awakening at dark thirty in the morning locked in a stairwell at the concert hall. My friends had abandoned me.

I got the last laugh though. They were pulled over for driving erratically. They were so out of it, they spent the night in a DC jail and had to have parents pick them up later that next day. Me, well about 10 AM, a janitor found and released me from my own personal Hell in the stairwell. All the way home on the bus, I cursed my friends and conjured up payback of varying levels and intensities. 

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