Lazy:

SYLLABICATION: la�zy

la�zi�er, la�zi�est

1. Resistant to work or exertion; disposed to idleness.

Yep, that's me all right.

I've been in my apartment for well over a month now. Yet, there are still so many boxes, it looks like hobos have established a shanty town in my living room/dining room.

I can't count how many times I've said, "Where is my such-and-such. Oh, it must still be in a box somewhere." Then, and this is the problem, I sit down on the couch. Shouldn't I want to unpack boxes? Shouldn't it bother me that I don't have access to half of my possessions? Apparently it doesn't bother me enough to do something about it.

You'd think I would be able to tackle the problem on weekends. Two whole days away from the job to get my personal life in order. But, you're not understanding how my brain works. I sleep late, barely talk myself into going to the store to get food (eating always seems to out-trump laziness), and then somehow the time flies as I nap, watch TV, watch movies when there's nothing on TV, or just vegetate on the couch. If I didn't have to go to the bathroom, the couch would probably weld to my butt like that lady Uncle Bob wrote about a while back.

Then, on Mondays, comes the dreaded question: "So, what'd you do this weekend?"

What I Want To Say: I got up at the crack of dawn to take pictures of the sunrise. I then went to the doors of all my elderly neighbors to see if they needed anything from the store. I walked across the waters of Lake Hefner to save injured birds. I volunteered at the youth shelter. Oh, and I saved people from a burning building. Twice.

What I Have To Say: Umm, let's see...well, I went to the grocery store. Umm, took a short nap (and I'm defining short as "a couple of hours"). I watched a couple of movies, I think. Hmm, I really didn't do much this weekend (as opposed to my other, jam-packed weekends).

So, I really need to unpack boxes.

Tomorrow. I'll do it tomorrow.