I’m feeling a bit lazy today. It’s not that there isn’t plenty to do. As I write this, I’m looking forward to a summer of travel (some of it exotic, some of it less-than). I’ll have weeks in which I’m unable to write in anything aside from my journal, so there is a pressing need to get as far ahead as I can in the composition of blog posts.
There are Greek books lying open on my floor. They are gifts from a friend whose goal is to make me fluent in a matter of weeks. I admit to feeling that his trust in my abilities may be misplaced. At the same time, I can’t help wondering whether I’m bad with languages or if, like math, I’ve simply told myself that I am so many times that I believe it to be true. (I did, after all, have an “aha” moment during yesterday’s translation work. Given the limited time I’ve had available for my studies, I seem to be making reasonable progress.)
What I’d really like to do right now, however, is sit down with a book. I’m currently working my way through nearly three-dozen different tomes – one for each conceivable mood. At present, I’m steeped in a delightful volume designed to improve my memorization and story-telling skills. I admit that, despite this, I’m unlikely to ever rival the likes of Garrison Keillor or O. Henry. But one can dream.
There’s some needlework in the basement that might be worth my attention. Bits of unfinished Christmas gifts that desperately need my attention if they’re to be delivered on time. Some of the pieces are even starting to look like the pictures on the front of the packaging. I confess that the idea of sitting in front of the television and stitching away is a close second to the relatively lazy act of reading a good book.
In the kitchen, I can hear a cup of coffee calling. Decaf, perhaps? I’m not sure, but I am certain that my taste buds are tingling. The couch, too, is begging for my presence. There is a pillow on it that is lonely when my head is so far away. And outside, the sun is shining, the temperature just right. There’s a soft breeze in the trees and I can see the way the light shines through them, illuminating them in brilliant emerald hues.
There’s so much to do. And so much to “not do”. But as much as I’d like to write a tribute to my laziness, I can’t. I’m still sitting here at my laptop. The keys are still clicking as if my hands had a mind of their own. Another blog post is almost complete. Two more to go and I can stop for the day. But maybe I’ll run to the kitchen and make that cup of coffee first. After all, a little laziness never hurt anyone.