Ever since I got back from vacation, I’ve been suffering from Lazybones.

In other words, I’m generally mehhhhh about moving around a lot.

This has meant my house isn’t as clean as it could be; my clean laundry has not been put away (or, in the case of the most recent load, removed from the dryer); my ass print on my living room chair is pretty obvious; I’m not getting much done on my book– all I do is open it and read it and add a sentence or two, ugh; and worst of all, I’m not exercising like I should be.

I did work out on Saturday. So that was good.

And Sunday was one long workout, with all the hard yardwork I did.

Monday I knew I needed to rest my muscles, and this was a good thing to do.

Tuesday… lazybones starts creeping in. I fail to get out of bed early enough to work out, even though my alarm went off at 5:30 and everything. I just snoozed and snoozed and mentally considered calling out of work for no good reason. I just didn’t feel like moving.

And this morning, same thing, pretty much. Except I did get up and eat my banana, so I was on the right track at that point. But then I went in to pay my bills. I do a batch at the end of the month/the first, and then another right after the 15th each month, and I didn’t want to forget to do it, so I logged on and got everything paid. And then I visited The Modern Free-Time Vacuum: Facebook.

I wasted some time there. I shouldn’t have. Because it got too late to get out on my bike and work out. And I wasn’t interested in the treadmill today for some reason. I ended up getting ready for work with a feeling of shame that I was being lazy again. I’ve got to get back in the swing of things!

My plan is to go for my ride tonight, when I get home from work. I haven’t done an after-work ride yet, because of the heat, mostly. So it will be interesting to see how warm it is out there, and how different it feels in terms of who I see out there, how I do with a lengthy workout at the end of the day instead of the beginning, etc. But I feel like I need to do it to kickstart everything back into gear. Now.

On my lunch hour today, I decided it was time to get my filthy car to the carwash. The plan was to find one someplace while out driving and just get the full wash, complete with having the guys clean the interior, too. It would be more expensive, yeah, but it would be worth it. (My car seats were disgusting–covered in Indy’s hair! Damn, that dog sheds. I realize that Hurley doesn’t really shed, even though he has all that hair; it sticks and stays in his coat until it is removed. I am hereby thankful for this.)

Except I didn’t pass a carwash. Well, there was one, but before I realized it was there it was too late to get in the left lane and go there without cutting off traffic, and I was too lazy to turn around. I cruised some more, and finally saw this sign “$3.00 Carwash. Vacuums Always Free!” OK, three dollars sounds pretty good to me. The wash looked relatively new and a few business-type people were there vacuuming out their cars. I pulled in.

The wash was fine. The vacuuming experience was the problem today. The hose wasn’t long enough to go around my car, so I had to snake it through the seats. The suction wasn’t great, so I had to put my back into it, so to speak, to get all the frickin’ Indy hair out of there. The vacuum shuts itself off after about 5 minutes, so I had to keep hitting the button and starting it up again. At one point, I actually yanked the vacuum tube out of the machine. I was wondering why I suddenly lost suction and yet the machine was still running…

I kept tripping in my wedge sandals on the concrete parking barrier in front of my car, too. I never fell all the way, but I sure stumbled a bit and banged my toes up. And I was sweating in that gross, wet-face kind of way. I was grateful for my stash of fast-food napkins, because I used them to towel off. I know I looked like a real mess out there, but I don’t care what any of those other people thought, of course. It was simply an unpleasant, sweaty experience.

I regretted not going to a real carwash and just paying to have someone do that for me.

Next, I wanted air in my tires. I drove to the nearest gas station. The air machine only accepted quarters–4–and I had only 3. I didn’t feel like walking into the store to get change for a dollar (LAZY again!) so I drove to the next station. A woman in a Prius was already there using the air machine. I pulled around to do a U-turn and wait for her to finish up, but a dickhead in a Lexus cut me off and pulled behind her, stealing my “spot” in line. Exasperated, I went to the station on the opposite corner. Another one that only accepted quarters. This time, I went in and got the damn quarters. I filled my tires, but knelt on the ground at one point, because now my knees are all grubby-looking. I wiped them off immediately, but the look is awful with my light khaki pencil skirt and sandals. What a refined lady I must appear to be! All the world marvels at my grace and neatness.

So, here’s to fighting off lazybones, when it strikes. I hope to do it tonight once I am out of work. (I’m lazy here at work, too, of course.) As long as I don’t get distracted or unmotivated to move…

No! Must move!

[Perhaps “Lazybones” by Soul Coughing will be of assistance. Yes. I believe it will. Good band; always makes me want to move!]


3 responses »

  1. Teh lazy … I has it too. I’ve been staying away from Facebook, because it’s keeping me from getting things done and it kind of bums me out, if you want to know the truth. Which is petty of me, but still. In my book, you’ve done plenty. You worked out! And paid bills! And got your car washed! I know it’s just normal adult shit, but hell, I’m impressed.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s