Lazy Days

          When trying to figure out what constitutes a lazy day, it may be helpful to look at a standard definition for "lazy": disinclined to activity or exertion,  not energetic or vigorous, encouraging inactivity or indolence.  So a lazy day is one where you basically do nothing.  For hours, you lie in a hammock, float in the pool, stay in bed. Is it possible, however, to also extend the definition to what actually seems to be energetic activity?

          The idea of wallowing in inertia as a way to spend my lazy day has  never been appealing to me. Sitting on a dock or a river bank for days with a cane fishing pole is anathema. Laying on the beach results in having grains of sand everywhere. Curling up with a good book/kindle for hours is paralyzing. What is going on in the rest of the world while I'm buried in a book? Same thing with TV. Binge watching a ten hour series sounds more like visual torture than pleasure. Some would see a lazy day as going on a twenty mile bike ride. I see sunburn and painfully sore muscles.

          My idea of a lazy day is anything other than work, where I can cram in as much in as possible. Walk the dog, check mail and news updates on-line. Go to the bank, the hardware store, the grocery. Come home; take a power nap. Blow the front porch. Add pool chemicals. Check news updates. Write for thirty minutes. Feed the dog. Start dinner. Water plants. Check email. Talk to the wife for five minutes. Channel surf two hours of TV, including sports highlights. Go to bed. This is how I relax. 

          If someone ever offered me a free seven day cruise, with the chance to endlessly rearrange the deck chairs and indolently eat until I explode, I would pass in a nana second. A boat to nowhere is not my idea of a good time.  Rather, give me a day with a new activity every fifteen minutes. I would be like a pig in slop on steroids. That's my lazy day.