On Laziness
Have you ever been alarmed by the depths of your own laziness?
For a while now, I've been in the habit of snoozing (verb?) nearly an hour after my alarm time. I may just be setting myself up for failure, given that I'm always planning to wake up early to go to the office or to run. It almost never happens. In fact, usually I snooze far past my "aspirational" wake up time, float right by my "on time" target, and find myself teetering precariously over the "very late for work" precipice. Each day I go through the same exercise. (Yes, I know it's ineffective to try to play psychology tricks on myself, but I do it anyway.) More recently, I've upped the ante by continuing to lay in bed until I have to go to the bathroom so bad I can't stand it. Anything to get a few extra minutes of sleep. Weird, right?
Living alone again has forced me to stare more deeply into this heart of darkness. With no one to harass me about my odd behaviors, I find more and more of them creeping into my daily life. For example, tonight I worked late and didn't feel like thinking through a proper dinner. The grocery store (on my way home) seemed like an unnecessary diversion, and spending time and effort to identify a carry-out option wasn't in the cards (although I'm itching to try that fake Papa Johns again). Instead, I dug through my (barren) cupboards and ate the following: sea salt & vinegar chips, a glass of flat Dr. Pepper, a pan au chocolat croissant, a bit of wine, and a granola bar. The funny thing is, I didn't remember I had half of these items in my apartment. (I should note that I had a 3pm lunch due to meetings at work.) Is this what it has come to? I'm already prepared to be mad hungry in the morning.
Unrelated: I am heading to Budapest for the weekend, which means this blog should benefit from some interesting pictures and stories come Sunday night. It also means that I'll wind up with a bunch of Forint (Forints?) in change that I won't be able to convert at the currency exchange on the way back to London. Inevitably, these will be added to the growing pile of Euro, US, Swiss, and low value GBP coins in my top drawer. Did I tell you about the cab driver in Seville who gave me 30 Euro in change (~$35) on my trip to the airport? I still have most of that isht, even after buying bocadillos and a plethora of other useless snacks in the terminal.
For a while now, I've been in the habit of snoozing (verb?) nearly an hour after my alarm time. I may just be setting myself up for failure, given that I'm always planning to wake up early to go to the office or to run. It almost never happens. In fact, usually I snooze far past my "aspirational" wake up time, float right by my "on time" target, and find myself teetering precariously over the "very late for work" precipice. Each day I go through the same exercise. (Yes, I know it's ineffective to try to play psychology tricks on myself, but I do it anyway.) More recently, I've upped the ante by continuing to lay in bed until I have to go to the bathroom so bad I can't stand it. Anything to get a few extra minutes of sleep. Weird, right?
Living alone again has forced me to stare more deeply into this heart of darkness. With no one to harass me about my odd behaviors, I find more and more of them creeping into my daily life. For example, tonight I worked late and didn't feel like thinking through a proper dinner. The grocery store (on my way home) seemed like an unnecessary diversion, and spending time and effort to identify a carry-out option wasn't in the cards (although I'm itching to try that fake Papa Johns again). Instead, I dug through my (barren) cupboards and ate the following: sea salt & vinegar chips, a glass of flat Dr. Pepper, a pan au chocolat croissant, a bit of wine, and a granola bar. The funny thing is, I didn't remember I had half of these items in my apartment. (I should note that I had a 3pm lunch due to meetings at work.) Is this what it has come to? I'm already prepared to be mad hungry in the morning.
Unrelated: I am heading to Budapest for the weekend, which means this blog should benefit from some interesting pictures and stories come Sunday night. It also means that I'll wind up with a bunch of Forint (Forints?) in change that I won't be able to convert at the currency exchange on the way back to London. Inevitably, these will be added to the growing pile of Euro, US, Swiss, and low value GBP coins in my top drawer. Did I tell you about the cab driver in Seville who gave me 30 Euro in change (~$35) on my trip to the airport? I still have most of that isht, even after buying bocadillos and a plethora of other useless snacks in the terminal.
posted by cjb at 11:57 PM
1 Comments:
mmm...i could go for a bocadillo right now.
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