It’s a sultry Saturday afternoon and I am languishing languidly on my bed, like a languid thing, bored to tears.
The monologue of my conscience takes on a ‘mom voice’ tone and berates me for a) not being domestic and cleaning up; b) thinking my entertainment is other people’s responsibility and c) thinking boredom is an excuse to get high. Nice try, Romeo.
Ok, ok – let me get my head around this one – so you’re saying there’s something to do (the dishes and the laundry); I’m the best-equipped to entertain myself and…wait. What? Who mentioned anything about drugs?
Ah. Just a little reminder that complacency is a dangerous thing. Well played, conscience. Well played.
Fine. I’ll go to the beach.
PS: I get that boredom is luxury. I’ve worked pretty hard to achieve this. So there goes your critique of my supposed laziness, chump.
© Dave Luis 2014. All Rights Reserved.