Major Case of the Lazies

I thought spring was supposed to energize, motivate, refresh, and inspire. I thought once the weather decided to stop being schizo and maintain peak temperatures of above 60 degrees, I'd become this sort of Energizer Bunny of cleaning and exercising and, you know, leaving the house and stuff. It just sure would be nice to feel that burst of renewed energy that you're supposed to feel when the seasons change. Of course, I guess to have renewed energy, you'd need to have some level of energy to begin with.

I'm not sure what my problem is lately. Every year I seem to get worse and worse. Perhaps my spirit is merely prematurely aging. On the outside, late twenties. On the inside, 72 going on 73. I predict this time next year, I'll be well into my hundreds, desperately wanting to shake my cane at all the joggers, bicyclists, and baby stroller pushing passersby for taunting me in my sedentary condition, but unable to as, alas, that would require too much energy.

It doesn't help matters when you put two lazy people under the same roof. Stephen honestly doesn't care what the house looks like, as long as it's not a total trash pit. You know, how most guys are: he could care less if there are things hanging on the walls, and whether those walls are painted a pretty color or are just plain carpenter's white makes no difference to him. Although, I have to give him credit. Last week, as I mentioned in my previous post, he really impressed me and did some chores around the house that had been put off for months. And months. And what have I done since then? Three whole loads of laundry. And I critiqued his picture hanging - I can't forget that exhausting chore. But the way it goes for me is I do get bursts of energy, but then I look around and feel overwhelmed and realize I don't have enough storage space and not enough storage space means I have to get rid of something and OH MY GOD I DON'T HANDLE PARTING WITH THINGS EASILY, BRING ME A PAPER BAG IN WHICH TO BREATHE!

And once I've stopped violently convulsing in a tantrum on the floor, I wipe the tears from my eyes and the snot from my nose and come and sit at the computer and just ignore the problem at hand. Because that....that is what I'm really good at.

So anyway, I figure if I confess and write about what an incredible blob I'm turning into between the laziness and the procrastination and the confusion, maybe, just maybe, this will inspire me to change my wickedly pathetic ways so, if nothing else, I'll have some awesome story on overcoming to post on here. As if overcoming laziness is exactly the same as, you know, overcoming drug addiction or some life threatening disease. Wow, who knows, I could have Oprah banging down my door to do a show on my brave recovery from self-destructive behaviors...such as not sweeping the floor Saturday or skipping out the past three nights on my stomach crunches or not working on organizing this God-foresaken office. My problems are THIS huge, people.

I really, really hope someone out there is playing the world's smallest violin for me right now.