I consider myself a lazy person. I’ve always been a sleepy head. My all-time record for sleeping is 18 hours straight. I have a chronic lack of energy (which luckily I found out it’s toned down by a supplement of magnesium). I can go for three days without leaving the house. When I was 17 I got a pneumonia and, due to medical history, the doctor advised me to not go out for about a month, and I obliged!
On the other hand, I am someone who enjoys a lot to do things. I like to go out with friends, I like to party once in a while, I like to go out just to look at the sea and then get back home after.
This duality put me in a place where I had to decide who I was going to be, so after college I decided I would be someone who does stuff. Obviously, I still indulge my lazy side and take a Sunday off to do nothing useful and just nap, watch movies and play games. The thing is, I got used to do so much stuff that I sometimes feel bad when I do nothing all day, so it’s very common I end up cleaning up around the house at 7 pm on a supposedly lazy Sunday.
This weekend was a weekend of doing stuff. When I finished work on Friday, at 6 pm, I went out with a friend for some snails and beer. After that it was dinner time, so we ate out. Suddenly it was quiz time at a cafe, so there I went with another friend. After losing, once again, we headed back to town and I don’t know how, 12 hours have passed between the time I got out of and back to the house.
Saturday was part-time day, so I worked and that was pretty much it, with the highlight of day being a scoup of strawberry cheesecake ice-cream I had for dessert.
Sunday was entirely spent at the Medieval Fair that goes on every year around this time, spending way too much money on stuff and food, and walking so much that I think I’m ready to do the pilgrimage route to Santiago de Compostela.
Needless to say that going back to work today was very difficult. The day was spent on the scaffold, hard work, and waking up much more early than usual. I was so tired that I was super hyped up.
After getting out I was feeling… Not feeling. All was a rush, I was rushed, the world was moving way too fast. So I told the guys I was going ahead to change. On the way back to the car I ambled. I don’t recall the small trip, but I remember to breathe, at a slow pace, and to change for a long time, taking my time while taking out the overalls and the work boots.
I am still tired, but a bit of slowing down sure helped me getting back to myself.
Now my lazy self took over and I’m laying on the sofa writing, while my (sweet) partner is cooking shrimp curry for dinner.
Oh, man. I have to get up to try to open the devil jar of nuts. I can’t have a quiet moment!
(My favorite trick is to gently pat the lid against a hard surface, all around it.)