lazy day

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You know the day. For me, it is almost always raining. The kind of rain that drizzles, then pours, then stops, then starts again all day long. The sun is in hiding. On this day, I never even get dressed. I expect no knocks on the door nor do I have the urge to chat, be creative or produce much of anything. It’s almost as if there’s a written contract somewhere which states that I may, contrary to my usual modus operandi, give in to lolling in shiftlessness and sloth. What this really means is that I give up on doing whatever industrious activity was planned for the day (my heart’s not in it!) and waste away the hours doing random stuff of no redeeming value to me, my household or the world at large.

I had one of these delightful days last week. It had rained during the night–a clamorous barrage of water pelting the roof and windows. By morning, the sky had settled into a steady stream of wetness, dampening earth and spirits. I arose and considered my options. Did I really need to take a shower? This question, and its resulting answer, almost always determines which way the day will go, I hoisted a sweater over my t-shirt and Tomboy X pj pants with the skating penguins design and half-heartedly performed a few yoga poses–just enough to get the joints moving.

I could feel myself capitulating to a lazy day. My husband had run the dishwasher before we went to bed the previous evening, emptied it that morning and, as he always does, left the dishwasher’s removable silverware rack on the kitchen counter to facilitate a drier status. I opened the silverware drawer and began to pull handfuls of spoons, forks and knives to sort into the drawer divider. One spoon was wedged into the holes of the rack. I gave it a few hearty tugs, but it refused to budge. On a bright, sunny morning, I might have given the situation more consideration. I might have lifted the rack and peered underneath for the spot where it was wedged and tried to dislodge it from there. But, this was shaping up to be an official lazy day, so I left the spoon in its trapped condition and put the rack back into the dishwasher. Why make a fuss on a day like this? I pictured that spoon residing in that spot for all of eternity, even after we got a new dishwasher. Such is my mindset on a lazy day.

After breakfast (hot water sloshed over some oatmeal in a bowl) I played games on my computer for a couple hours. I gave in to my compulsion to play a game for which I usually set a timer to keep myself from being lost in my own delight for more time than is warranted. I have little understanding why I get so caught up in the mechanizations of this game, but it might be because I am pattern-oriented and the game is all about fitting patterns together until no more will fit in the grid. Being offered unlimited chances to perform this task along with racking up points for my superior spacial awareness, means I lose track of time. On lazy day, I’m allowed to spend as much time as needed for such a wasteful activity.

Since my body is one of those that doesn’t take well to long hours of sitting, I felt the need to move about in a sluggish manner. I slipped my rain pants over my pajama bottoms, slid my feet into some shoes and donned my raincoat in order to walk the dog around the block. To some, that might seem contrary to the vibe of the day, but my husband and I usually go on a much longer walk on non-lazy day afternoons. The rain determines both the tone for the day and the allowable amount of industry.

When we returned from the walk, the afternoon stretched deliciously before me. Napping is always a good choice for such a day, so I claimed the couch, along with the dog, for the ultimate slog fest–the apathy nap. It doesn’t matter how long it lasts, because I will feel just as sluggish as I did before my head hit the pillow, which is the perfect outcome on lazy day.

Late afternoon loomed ahead with no agenda. I arose from my nap and proceeded to expend just enough energy to crank up the tea kettle and scrounge for a snack. Ah, peanut butter crackers left over from our trip to Atlanta. The fatty, greasy saltiness from the crackers made me hungry for more. I broke the spirit of the day by throwing a pre-made (by me) pie crust into a dish along with some apples and raisins to bake a lazy-day pie. It took more energy than I wanted to employ, but the outcome redeemed my indiscretion. I decided slovenly-made apple pie was more delicious than pre-planned pie just by the nature of its unexpectedness alone. On an industrious day, I often make a few pie crusts to stash in the freezer for just such an occasion. For the same reason, I might prudently store some frozen fruit such as mango or blueberries. Summer lazy days call for smoothies.

Books usually have high status on one of my lazy days. I am frequently reading two or three at a time. If the timing is right, I might binge finish a novel while lounging on the couch. Or, if I’m too lazy even for that, I can read the next short story or chapter of a non-fiction book. I’ll even resort to paging through a cookbook if nothing else will satisfy my languishing needs. This particular day, I picked up the West Asheville library book club selection, Wilmington’s Lie, which is a story of how white supremacy and Jim Crow laws got established in post-civil war North Carolina. Not my best choice for keeping the flames of action tamped, but ok enough to kill the rest of the afternoon.

Dinner is always a tricky business on a lazy day. I pre-plan all my cooking for the week. Some menus are worthy of my more dynamic days, requiring some morning prep and/or an earlier start than usual. On a more torpid day, I might switch to something with a quicker preparation. On this particular listless day, I was fortunate enough to have made a couple of the components the day before. Is it possible I have a certain amount of kitchen prescience which compelled me to take advantage of a day full of vim and vigor to offset the coming inertia? I thanked my day-before self for thinking ahead. All I had to do for my lazy-day dinner was to cut up an avocado and throw some pre-cut sweet potatoes into a pan with some equally pre-cut onions. Also, I employed the microwave oven to heat up the rest of the dish, being too lazy to turn on the regular oven.

After dinner, still in my pajamas, I once again slapped on my rain gear to schlep the dog around the block in the rain. She too seemed to have fallen into the groove of a do-nothing day. Post trudge, while it does not seem possible, my level of activity dropped to below that perceptible to the naked eye. It usually dips considerably after our evening walk anyway. Since I was already in a bra-less, unpresentable state, I simply removed my rain gear and collapsed on the couch with the tv remote within reach. My semi-soggy pooch joined me to watch whatever innocuous comedy/drama was on offer to enjoy without even having to expend too much emotional energy.

That night, after having dragged myself into bed, I slept the satisfying sleep of the already well-rested. Tomorrow was another day in which to kick it into a higher gear and get stuff done. I’ve begun to consider the occasional lazy day as essential for my well-being and to preserve the high level of enthusiasm with which I tackle all my super-powered days. It’s now time to get back to the many tasks scheduled for today.

Take care of yourself,

Cheryl