Retirement

I am a lazy slug. Ever since retiring, I've been motivated to do nothing all day.

My wife runs off to her volunteer work caring for hospice patients, while I stay home debating whether to Google for The Naughty Women of East Germany or fix our leaky toilet. Oh sure, I did do the dishes today, well I turned the knob to start the dishwasher. Laundry, the same thing; turn the knob, dump in the soap, start. I never sort the clothes. Whites, colors, whatever, all go in one load.

I’ve overloaded our washer so many times; the spin cycle serves as a carnival death-ride for long forgotten socks trapped in dryer limbo.  After I put the wash in the dryer, I set the heat on high in hopes that everything will shrink down to the size of a postage stamp so I won’t ever have to wash them again.

Stalling to avoid doing anything too productive, I stop and listen to the hum of the bed sheets in the dryer tying themselves into a tangled ball as they fight for space.

I begin looking at the books in my office. I read a bit here and there. I have a moment of inspiration. I stop to eat a banana. Potassium is good for the heart, I rationalize. Not that I have done anything to wear it out today, but better safe than sorry.

Done with my snack, I check our email and my Face book page for the hundredth time today. No one writes or posts to me. I am invisible to the world. A look-a-chicken moment happens when I spot one of our neighborhood’s feral cats wandering through our backyard. I race outside, flailing my arms at it to chase it off before it has time to crap in my garden.

Satisfied I’ve done too much work for one day, I decide to take a nap. Tomorrow I’ll do more. Really!