Lazy Day

After a week of work, forty-plus hours caring for lawns plus the additional hours typing at night, the general lack of sleep and physical and mental deep-fatigue, when Saturday comes around I never wake up. I’ll get out of bed, but then after eating breakfast it’s another nap. I’ll drag myself to my typewriter, maybe ‘work’ for a half-hour, but then my head is again sleep-fogged. So I’ll read a few pages, and fall back asleep. I’ll spend time with wife and child, then wife’s off to work, and any┬átime to type becomes secondary to the care of child. Lazy, without a drive to write, I’m prone to long hours on news-site comment boards, to watch TV, to remain on the couch, and when the baby’s in bed and I’m thoroughly disgusted at having spent the entire day not typing, I’ll masturbate and then see what alcohol’s in the house. I’ll watch more TV, debate more online, feel tired the entire time, and go to bed feeling disgusted with my squandered life.

I hate my lazy days because I take full got-damned advantage of them even though I have so much I want to be doing.

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