I have a confession to make. I spend an inordinate amount of time doing nothing. Like, absolutely nothing. There are entire weekends when I don’t do anything productive or worthwhile. Aside from feeding my cats and doing other minor household chores, I really don’t do anything on the weekends. I think, well, I think I’m an incredibly lazy person. It’s odd, I’m not a lazy person at work. I actually think I’m a pretty hard worker. But it’s my down time – that time when I’m not at the office, when it’s just me and the cats, that I think, oh my God, I’m lazy.
There are a hundred million things that I should do. I have household projects that I really could tackle by myself but I don’t. There is a bedroom in my house that still needs a second coat of paint – a year after the first coat went on. I have electrical outlets and switches to replace – which, you might be surprised to learn, I actually know how to do. I have a curtain rod that is sitting in my basement that I really should put up because I’ve had it for two years and the window kinda needs curtains. A year after starting on a bathroom demo, it’s still in the same shape I left it on the day that I took a break. I have pictures to hang and a desk to organize and a refrigerator to clean and yet, weekend after weekend I find myself not doing any of it.
It’s Sunday and I’m doing what I always do on Sunday. Being lazy.
I think, deep down, there is something wrong with me.