The Unbearable Laziness of Being Me

Ladies and Gentleman, I have an announcement to make. I am lazy.

Ridiculously and embarrassingly lazy.

I have suspected this to be the case for a while now, but having spent today closely monitoring the situation, I can no longer deny it:

It is 7.40pm and I have not yet had a shower today. (I promise I’ll have one before I go to bed. Honest).

A couple of hours ago, my Sky+ box automatically went onto standby. Turns out I’d been watching Friends repeats for 4 whole hours without moving, and not even my TV could believe that I was that lazy.

I have needed a wee for the past 35 minutes. It is a fairly serious need, and I am now pretty uncomfortable, and yet I am STILL NOT GOING.

See what I mean? Lazy.

I then thought about my life more generally, and it transpires that this laziness has seeped into almost every decision I’ve ever made.

Exhibit A: Since my mid-20s, I have had wavy hair. The main reason for this? It’s easier. It’s the lazy person’s hairstyle of choice. Not only do I not have to piss about artfully blow-drying and straightening my hair, but half the time I don’t even have to brush it.

Exhibit B: For every job I’ve ever had, in all 5 of the flats/houses I’ve lived in since being a student, I’ve been able to walk to work. Usually in 15 minutes or less. I’m too lazy to even contemplate the word ‘commute’.

Exhibit C: It’s nearly 2 months since I last blogged.

Somehow, unbelievably, I’ve been getting away with this apathetic way of life for 3 decades. So why stop, I hear you ask? If it’s going unnoticed, or at least unchallenged, why change the habit of a lifetime?

Well, unfortunately, a couple of weeks ago, I started working somewhere new, somewhere a full 15 miles away from my flat, somewhere that involves a 20-minute train journey every morning. I have become a commuter.

At first, I thought I could totally breeze through this, effortlessly integrating the added journey into my routine and learning to live life by the Transpennine Express timetable. Sadly not.

I have become the late idiot who has to run shrieking after trains, desperately hoping the nice people with whistles will hold on and wait for me. I am the moron with a sad broken umbrella and distinctly non-waterproof footwear, who is not prepared for rainy Manchester mornings. I am the angry passenger who glares at everyone on the train, blaming each and every one of them for stealing her freedom to be lazy.

And so, friends, the laziness is no more. I am turning over a new stick of bamboo, and resolving to leave my laziness behind. Here are the first 3 important steps I have taken:

1. I took my boots to get reheeled and resoled. I have never had anything cobbled before. My boots now no longer have holes in the bottom and can keep rain out. Amazing.

2. I have started ripping off the tiny perforated triangles on each page of my diary so I can flip straight to the current day, which I always thought was a total waste of time and effort. I am now efficient and organised super-diary-lady.

3. I have written this blog.

Which, if I’m honest, has rather taken it out of me. Think I’d better go and have a nap.