December 4, 2012 by Mandi Harris
They say the first step to overcoming a problem is admitting it. So, I admit it: I am very lazy. I’ve been thinking about my laziness a lot lately. I am extremely lazy. Terminally lazy, if you will. Sometimes, I daydream about developing a condition which requires doctors to put me in a medically induced coma. Nothing too serious- maybe a slight case of hemorrhagic fever. I don’t know. Just something where they inject me with a syringeful of medical grade sleepytime tea. Yes, I’m so lazy that I daydream about hemorrhagic fever getting me out of having to do things. I also daydream about being able to sleep. I don’t understand people who don’t like to sleep. Sleeping is the best. The only bad thing about sleeping is when I have a nightmare or stress dream in which I am forced to exert myself physically. I don’t like to exercise while I’m awake; I really resent having to exercise while I’m asleep.
Yes, I am one lazy son of a bitch. I’ve been especially lazy about this blog. I swore to myself at first that I was going to update it twice a week and titillate my enthralled readers with tales of my daring and hilarious escapades. That was the grand plan. Well, that grand plan went straight down the shitter.
In my first post, I talked about how I was going take tango lessons and become a character from a James Bond film (only I would be one of the rare women in a James Bond film who actually lives). And I fully intended to, until my laziness got in the way. A couple of weeks ago I received a Groupon offer for eight weeks of tango lessons for only $40. I was so excited! I was all set! I had visions of myself dancing the nights away with mysterious gentlemen in the candelabra-lit halls of Buenos Aires. I came thisclose to buying the tango Groupon. However, when I looked up where the tango school was located, I found it was 15.4 miles away on the other side of town. Plus (and I’m saying this in my whiniest voice), you had to go up a really steep hill to get there. It’s winter, and I did not want to risk the icy, snowy trek up and down that hill. I mean, I guess getting into a black ice-induced car accident could lead to the coma that I daydream about. But it’s one thing to daydream about a coma and another to experience it in reality. And another thing (again in my whiny voice): 30.8 miles round trip once a week would use up a lot of gas.
In addition to this blog, one place where my laziness truly manifests itself is in my love life. I hate going on dates. They’re just soooooo much work. You have to pretend to be charming and kind and interesting. Worst of all, you have to pretend to be interested in what the stranger sitting across from you has to say. I just don’t care that much about what strangers have to say. Why would I make the effort to get all gussied up just to be (true story) lectured by some dude on John Mayer’s guitar prowess? I’d much rather make the effort to get all gussied up to hang out with my friends. Or, best of all, make absolutely no effort, and curl up, braless and pantsless, with a good book. My laziness probably goes a long way toward explaining my lack of a love life.
I am so lazy that it took me two hours to write this blog because I spent most of the time staring off into space daydreaming about napping. It is impossible for me to write with my bed in my line of sight. When it comes to napping and doing anything else, I will always choose napping. I could make grand promises to myself about how I won’t be lazy anymore, or cut down on my naps, but meh. That sounds like a lot of effort. I’m just proud of myself for making my bed this morning instead of crawling back into it and hibernating.