Lazy ole me…

“Ladies and gentlemen…” Says the disembodied voice from off stage as the curtain goes up with a “ta da” and a drum roll) “Today is the day for my true confession. (gasps from audience). I’m awaking from a “tossy-turny” sleep. Obviously my creative mind must have been working double time in dreamland.

What am I admitting to anyway? I am very lazy.

Am I upset about my current state? No, this looks to be only a temporary condition, which will most magically be transformed once I hit the Tarmac in lalaland next week. Yes, I have been on a very extended holiday – this in itself may account for what could appear as the understatement of the obvious.

So why the big announcement?

Today, I became so acutely aware of where I’m at in terms of my languor, I figured if I didn’t come out of the “closet” about it, I might never, ever, ever work again! You see, when I awoke in the very comfy guest bed, in the more than adequate guest quarters of Julia and Christian’s home and looked out at the early morning sunshine on this brand new day, I couldn’t think of anything I’d rather do than call out for breakfast in bed, without any guilt, reluctance or timidity. It would be my utmost pleasure to stay here relaxing, gorging myself on decadent chocolatey french pastries and decaf almond mochas (if they were close at hand, which they are not) writing, taking a moment to pet my granddog Porter who loves climbing onto the bed for the occasional head rub, then stealing an apple or cracker he discovered in my open suitcase.

Is this a truly horrible thing? Maybe. That is if I felt guilty about it, which I don’t.

Besides, there is no one to provide me with such delightful room service, at least not here…And this won’t be the scenario for me on this warm Texas morning, nor, I can safely say, is it likely will it be later today. Why?

Number one. I hear baby Levi, now futzing …or fussing, you pick. I simply will not be able to just sit here while he cries. Instead, I’m going to (if only temporarily) get up to change a diaper to put the kibosh on any further ideas of being such a slug. How dare I, anyway? I AM the grandmother who, though I am staying here in my very own comfy bed, must earn my keep. Oh, if only Max were here he’d help me stay in bed just a little bit longer…No, wait, he would’ve said, “One of us better get up and change the baby and walk the dogs.” Then again, he might’ve slept through the entire baby fussing. I’ve got a busy imagination even if the rest of me is incredibly lazy.

Number two. It’s Bill Ward’s (father to Christian-son-in-law) birthday. In just a few hours we are driving out to Dripping Springs (its called that because its fucking hot there and your sweat drips off you like you just stepped out into a spring shower) to celebrate. (Couldn’t we have done this at a nice, cool -temperature and ambiance- hotel with waiters?) Family outing, woo hoo! I love taking rides out in the country on hot texas afternoons as much as I love watching paint dry. Don’t get me wrong. I love birthday parties, especially those of people I like, (of which Bill is one, I am happy to add), and I am ever so thankful to have air conditioning in the car (gotta have it in Texas, land of the perpetual outdoor sauna). But driving an hour in the max (not you Max, wherever you are now) heat o’ the day, is just too much, for lazy, jewish princess, ole me. Oh wait, I wasn’t going to be lazy after changing Levi. I’ve slipped into the “hole of good-for-nuttins”… What ever shall I do?

Meditate, locate my smile which is most probably lying amidst the clothes strewn around the room, then drag my less lazy ass out of bed, get dressed, make some hot cocoa with almond milk and agave and begin my ascent into the socially active human I know I am. Really, I don’t know where that lapse in my usual “get up and go” went. Do you?

Seriously, a hot weekend day is meant for AC, a tall glass of lemonade and a good book. I could go on, but you’d stop reading, if you haven’t already, which would then make this sentence moot. I’m getting up, excuse me for a bit. Thanks.20130915-074750.jpg Okay, it’s the next day. As you can see, I went to the party in Dripping Springs and smiled. Is it me, or do you also notice how much I look like a tortured beet, compared to the other smiling faces? Overlooking my overheated state, I admit I also had fun, as I sweated, laughed, sweated, held the baby and drank lemonade, sweated, ate picnicky foods, sweated some more, Birthday-roasted Bill, sweated, drank more lemonade, lounged under a canopy which helped only slightly with my sweating, then stood in the too hot for any sane person Texas sun to pose for the family pix, then rode home and went back to bed.

Today is a new day. I’m resolved to be active, happy and cool. Have a good one yourself!

One thought on “Lazy ole me…

  1. You are the cutest tortured beet I ever saw. My advice? Stay in bed as long as you like, as long as you can. Treat yourself as much as possible. You’ll know when you want to go back to work. Love you!


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