A Weekend During Which I Came to Truly Understand the Meaning of the Word “Slacker”

I don’t believe that I’ve ever been as lazy as I was this past lovely 4th of July weekend. Now I didn’t plan this to start out with…I actually had stuff I was supposed to get done last weekend…but that didn’t happen. As my husband and I are expecting house guests for the next two weeks (people he invited), and then more later on this summer, I had meant to spend the weekend getting the house and garden clean and presentable. However, with the weather being warm and sunny, the patio lounge chair called out to me each morning after I rolled out of bed around 10 or 11, made some coffee and checked my email.

I thought I would gradually get around to doing something constructive by mid-Sunday, but, you see… I really, really didn’t want to. By the time Monday (July 4th) rolled around, I officially announced to my husband that I wasn’t going to do anything this weekend, and so I was kindly just letting him know so as he wouldn’t come up with any plans, or expect me to do something. Since he had already become used to my laziness all weekend, he wasn’t really surprised. He’d already mowed the lawn, cleaned the upstairs bathroom, done laundry and cooked all of our meals (but he normally does most of the cooking), all while I sat on my ass. Occasionally, he would plop down on one of the other lounge chairs with a beer, or bring out some CDs he thought I might be in the mood for. Basically, while I did get a little bit of reading done, I pretty much just listened to music and vegetated for 72 hours straight. This was better than going to the beach or somewhere, because all of my CDs were nearby (I still don’t own an iPod, but I guess I should), and there was no traffic to sit in. Overall, the daily schedule went something like this: hang out on the patio for several hours, eat dinner, take a long walk with my husband after dinner, come home and hang out on the patio some more, go to bed.

When I wasn’t staring off into space, I was momentarily, seriously considering whether, if my husband and I were to both cash out our 401(k)s, we would have enough money to retire immediately and move to South America or some place where the US Dollar is still worth something. Maybe we could live in the Andes or some other mountainous area (I grew up in the Rocky Mountains, so I’m used to high-elevations and thin air), and buy a small cottage/shack or something (as long as it would be able to house a home entertainment center, because I can’t be without my music or movies for long). Then, if we needed to earn some spending cash, maybe my husband could play some guitar down at the local tourist resort, or perhaps I could take up basket-weaving or rug-making (I once learned how to crochet, so I’m sure I could become skilled at some other art & crafty type of work).

The weekend did eventually come to an end (we climbed up on our roof to watch the city firework show). Big sigh….by the time I got into work this morning, my mind was completely clear of all thought. I couldn’t remember what had gone on the previous week, or what tasks needed to be done this week. In fact, when my boss came in, and asked me how my weekend was, I was like, “Who are you!?…what am I doing here!?… Get me out of this hermetically-sealed building!”