The Lazies

I knew it would happen sooner or later. It always does. I’m working away, feeling fantastic and productive, feeling glorious, and then. BOOM. Attack of the Lazies.

It manifests slowly, sneakily. One night I might rebelliously leave all the dirty dishes in the sink, without even rinsing them off. Then instead of doing something “good,” like critiquing a friend’s manuscript, or getting a blog post ready, I’ll play a game (or fifty) of solitaire on the computer. It’s just one evening of laziness – we’ve all been there, right?

But then the next day, I don’t exercise after dropping Z off from school. I rationalize this, telling myself that having a second breakfast is more important than fainting on the elliptical machine. I further rationalize this by imagining the fainting scenario, complete with knocking myself out on the garage floor, then being unable to pick Z up at noon. And how she’ll be waiting there with her teacher, watching as all the other little kids get to go home with their parents, and “Where’s my mommy?” and how this abandonment will manifest itself in thousand-dollar therapy bills when she’s a tween.

While I eat instead of exercising, I need something to do. Reading while eating is a luxury I don’t get quite as often as I used to (i.e. every meal), so I relish a good book with a good bagel. An hour later, the bagel is long gone, but I’m at a really interesting point in this Margaret Atwood essay, so I better keep going.

Next thing I know, I have half an hour to work on my manuscript before picking up Z. So I stare at my revision to-do list for fifteen minutes. Then it’s too late to actually do anything. So I play a few games of solitaire before turning off the computer.

And so the week progresses. The dishes in the sink pile up. The mountain of monster zucchini piles up. The laundry on the designated Laundry Chair piles up. The kitchen floor is sticky, the refrigerator’s full of expired leftovers, and I don’t even make Z clean up her toys because I feel like such a hypocrite.

Nothing happens. Nothing gets done. It’s a miracle I took the time from my busy life to write this blog post.