Being a lazy turd has its rewards.
You’ll forgive me if I’m just a hump. Just a lazy bastard. Yeah, going to sit for a spell and read. No phone. No TV. Doing the family laundry too but baby my ass is on the couch, legs up and feeling good.
No manual, no instructions, no tome on productivity. I’m reading for fun and escape. Hope it grabs me by the nape. Take my mind and my thoughts to imagine world, a whole different place.
No have to’s guiding me. No winds are blowing on turbulent seas.
The sound of the washer and the dryer playing in the background. Suserrations of gentle mechanical ambiance, my symphony of calm abounds.
Where’s the drive? Where’s the aggressive need to make, make, make?
How much do I have to do to prove to myself I’m not fake? Author, writer tags I do claim but more than often I’m just Dad or cook. Are such titles good enough, is their weight the same?
Too much. Too much. Such drivel on the page. No need to waste a moment with self-loathing questions and…
