I had a really lazy day today. In fact, I’m having quite a lazy week. So far I’ve watched four movies, at least 10 episodes of Criminal Minds (the attractiveness of that cast is criminal, hohoho), read half a novel and am two chapters into another one, and it’s only Thursday. I’ve also hit the gym twice and dusted off an old yoga dvd. And I did a load of washing. This equals my total achievements this week.
I’m not complaining, in fact, I feel quite the opposite, as if I’ve stumbled upon a very undeserved holiday. However, I’m apprehensive of lazy weeks, because to my understanding they can often turn into lazy months, and even sometimes into lazy years, which in some unfortunate circumstances then morph into lazy lifetimes. Laziness isn’t for me. The more opportunities I take to be lazy, the less I seem to do and the more they seem to compound until I’m living on par with an actual sloth.
-actual sloth. Source: http://fuckyeahsloths.tumblr.com/
It’s not that sloths aren’t adorable, especially the baby ones. In fact, I may have made that point entirely to include a photo of a sloth (who could blame me?). It’s just that I’m not a sloth. I’m a person, and a particular type of person who puts a lot of pressure on themselves to meet a very high standard of success. Which makes the compounding laziness thing a problem, since if I’m lying about all the time watching Sense and Sensibility (GIANT SIGH, be mine, Colonel Brandon!) or wasting my time perusing the endless pages of my Tumblr feed I will never get around to making that Oscar winning film that is waiting patiently in the pages of my destiny, thus never fulfilling my potential and never meeting a high enough standard of success, etc, etc, unfulfilled life etc.
This is especially bad since I mostly work from home.
Compounding laziness, however, seems to be a societal issue. Super Size Me, the controversial documentary from a few years back tagged the obesity crisis in America to the convenience of fast food (read: laziness of consumers). The addictiveness of the products then lead to increased amounts being consumed, etc. I think however that my compounding laziness theory seems to point to lazy behavior as being addictive in itself. Gala darling recently posted a link to this article that likens television watching to heroin and hypnosis. The more TV we watch (a seemingly harmless way to pass a few lazy hours) the more we want to watch, and the hours in front of the box multiply, and before you know it you have a schedule from 11am (Ellen) to 3pm (The End of Dr Oz), then Family Ties and Mork and Mindy, followed eventually by Sabrina, and if you keep this up you can kiss those shiny red carpet dreams goodbye, Ell-Leigh.
On top of this we live in a world where convenience is king. You can get any type of food you like delivered – no need to cook or go pick it up. The Internet can provide you with movies, so no need to head over to Video Ezy or Blockbuster, they’re right here on your desk. You can even get rock hard abs in the comfort of your own home, thanks to the Ab Swing Pro, according to the infotainment I’ve watched so much of lately. The question is; where does convenience end and laziness begin? When did getting a pizza delivered once or twice a week become an acceptable norm? When did we start shunning the video store for the convenience of dvds delivered to our doorsteps? When did “it conveniently unfolds to fit under a bed” suddenly trump a gym membership that allows you to do more than just cardio with your abs?
There are garbage cans every 5 to 7 metres on my street. I still find litter. Yes, I’m writing an old person style rant about littering, but stay with me. These garbage cans are brightly coloured and there isn’t a moment when your eyes are open when you can’t see one. When did having this many garbage cans become necessary? And secondly, what on god’s green earth are people doing littering when the garbage can to resident ratio on this street is almost 2:1?
Having a lazy week is nice on occasion. In fact, this week has been super enjoyable all round, especially having the time to read so much. Convenience isn’t the devil either, in fact without modern conveniences like grocery delivery (for elderly/seriously busy types) and weekly visits from the garbage man modern city living would be impossible. The trick is to keep yourself in check. How much television is too much? Pick a number of hours that you’ll allow yourself to watch the idiot box and stick with it. If you have a few weeks where you know you’ll be able to waste a few hours, make them well wasted hours, with a facemask, a yoga session, some meditation or relaxation exercises, or meet up with friends. There is no need for one week of downtime to establish habitual laziness… Is there Ell?
- PS: 2 sloths! Source: http://fuckyeahsloths.tumblr.com/
Lauren says:
Laziness. We all hate it in other people, we all exhibit it ourselves. You know it’s true, in one way or another we all have our own lazy vice. I like to call mine Vazy (because obviously calling it Lice would be gross) and she sure does get plenty of exercise, especially on washing day.
Sometimes I stun myself at how much Vazy and I get along. At about eleven every morning we take a break together, usually just to hang out with a snack and some tv; it’s nice to take time out with someone as chilled as Vazy. This would be fine, except for the fact that the planned twenty minute break usually extends into a two hour procrastination interlude. But that’s what Vazy’s like, she knows how to suck you in and get you comfy and before you know it you’ll never be productive again. She can’t help it, it’s just in her nature.
As I said, Vazy gets particularly active, and I get particularly inactive, on washing day. Also on shower cleaning day. And on pamphlet drop off day at work. Or on car vacuuming day…in fact Vazy has worked her way in to many facets of adult life that I’ve decided I don’t really like to partake in. But there’s one thing that Vazy and I don’t do, one place where I draw the line, and that’s go out together in public.
Taking your Vazy, or your Lice if you prefer, out in public is pretty uncool, haven’t you heard? Apparently a lot of people haven’t, because I’m running into Vazy’s all over the place these days! I see them hanging around trash cans, loitering about a metre away where someone has decided to not quite bother walking their rubbish that extra step. I see gangs of them in movie cinemas after people leave, slinking about with the half empty drink cups and chewed on popcorn kernels littering the seats. Groups of them lay about on trains next to the scrunched up newspapers left half read and unwanted by the morning’s commuters and I’m pretty sure I catch a glimpse of one skulking in a public toilet every so often, when some silly has broken the flush mechanism but not bothered to let anyone know.
As much as me and my Vazy are good old mates when it comes to deciding between tv time and cleaning the fish tank, I’d like to think I know when enough is enough. After all, I need to make it clear to Vazy who is in control here, because she can be a pretty wilful creature; give her an inch and just you watch her think about taking a mile but then deciding not to because it’s harder than staying on the couch!
My point, dear people, is that Vazy’s are like special home treats. Like the cute/ugly fluffy slippers you wear at home*, Vazy’s are meant for leaving at the front door, where you step into your responsible in-public shoes ready to do the responsible and decent things people expect of you. I fear at the moment that we are breeding a ‘Culture of Vazy Dominance’, and that pretty soon there’ll be no turning back. It’ll just be plumber’s cracks views and very unparallel parallel parks that really required two more manoeuvrers everywhere.
What do you say? Ready to show your Vazy who’s boss?
*If your Vazy just piped up to reassure you that it’s really ok to wear your cute/ugly fluffy slippers out of the house, GET HELP NOW.
No comments:
Post a Comment