Lazy Sundays

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.