I like being lazy. I like sleeping in late on Saturdays, moving to the couch and drinking coffee before settling in for a mid-morning nap. If I don’t get a weekly allotted span of lazy time during the week, I feel a bit overwhelmed. (Some people call this ‘me-time’….let’s not fool ourselves, people).
And although I’m not a regular at church (although God and I have regular conversations….which He might actually consider irregular), I do try to abide by one rule – the one that says you should for sure do nothing on Sundays. I’m not even sure I can count that as being lazy, though – I mean, it’s in the bible.
I do feel like there is a huge difference between lazing around laziness and just rude laziness. Or just nasty laziness. Or I think I’m the only one on the planet laziness.
I love when I stop at a crosswalk to let someone across and they can’t even muster a wave of ‘thanks.’ Yes, I know it’s a crosswalk, so theoretically, I have to stop. But is your hand really that heavy that you can’t throw up the tiniest of princess waves?
The worst part is (remember, it truly IS difficult for me to maintain this level of perfection) that I think I am actually training people to be even lazier in some parts of my life. It’s a huge catch-22…
Here’s an example:
How do you handle this? If I leave it alone, I’m forced to cook my lunch with the risk of old food dripping off the top of the microwave into my macaroni & cheese.
If I clean it…then aren’t I just encouraging people not to worry about the mess they leave behind? (“Weird, when I put this spaghetti IN the microwave, it had red sauce on it…where’d it all go??” Oh well…”)
Yes, I cleaned it.
Same thing here:
Everyday I get to gander at a bowl of crusting oatmeal. This day, as a bonus, there was some kind of white mini-nugget farm as well.
Yes, I cleaned it up.
And this – this is a regular occurrence, actually:
Someone comes in, uses the last of whatever…and then leaves the container like a badge of honor for finishing it off. Really? How about I leave a Sharpie in the kitchen so you can write your name on the rotting carcass for all to see?
Yes….I threw it away…
When I worked over at Time Warner – my co-workers played the most evil joke on me. It was the perfect storm of pranks…I have this fear of pregnant ladies (only once they pass the 8th month or so)…and we had a pregnant lady working there.
So one day – she goes strolling by my office and I hear this super strange noise…I look at her face – see a look of horror, realize the noise was the sound of water hitting the floor and totally freak out…this lady’s water had just broken two feet away from me!!!
After a few choice swear words (I’m not good in crisis…I think I’ve mentioned that)…the thought flashes through my mind that I don’t even know if we have any Spot Shot. Because really, who else is going to clean it up.
Fortunately it was a prank – one of the best ever.
So there you go – you leave a mess, I’ll clean it up.
I don’t even blame our office manager for not grabbing this stuff – she never uses the microwave, doesn’t drink coffee – so she’s never in the break room to notice.
And she’s a tough cookie – I’m pretty sure if she did notice…heads would be rolling.
Into a dirty pile. That I’d have to clean up.