a little bit of this, a little bit of that

Billy Joe, a porter in my apartment complex, often stops me as I am coming or going out of my building and tells me to “relax”, “take a break” and “slow down”. He is under the impression that I’m one of those people who is always on the go and incapable of sitting still for more than five minutes. I don’t have the heart to tell him he’s wrong. I don’t think he’d believe me anyway.

The truth is, there are certain things I always do and consistently fit into my schedule no matter what, almost to the point of compulsion. I always make time for the gym or a run. Even if it means waking up early on a Saturday, which I hate. I, with no exceptions, always make my bed first thing in the morning and wash my dishes immediately after eating. I never fail to get to Duane Reade before my toiletries are depleted. I keep to a regular schedule for, ahem, personal grooming. And I pay my bills religiously as they come in. Billy Joe always seems to catch me on my way to or from the gym or with a giant Duane Reade shopping bag hanging from my arm and just assumes I need downtime.

What he doesn’t know is that, despite having a great workout ethic and loving my moisturizing/conditioning products, there is an indention in my leather couch that looks a lot like my rear end because other errands slip through the cracks. Not because I’m too busy doing other things, but because they are apparently not important enough to get me off my couch and away from repeats of Beverly Hills 90210 on the television. Things like cleaning my apartment (beyond the aforementioned making of the bed/doing the dishes), printing out the pictures from my mom’s surprise party which took place almost two months ago, food shopping for the week, hanging the pictures that have been on the floor and leaning against my wall for a year and fixing the printer I received for my birthday two years ago (which never worked) take energy I cannot summon at the risk of missing a status update from a friend on Facebook, or lying around my apartment doing absolutely nothing. And don’t even get me started on laundry. I have a box full of watches with batteries that need replacing, bracelets with clasps that need repair and dresses I need to take to the tailor so the straps don’t fall to my elbows, but schlepping to the jewelry district (all the way across town) is much less appealing than curling up on my couch. As a result, I never wear a watch, my jewelry is limited to earrings and the straps of my dresses are usually sliding over my shoulders. Poor misguided Billy Jo. If he only knew.

I always thought people fell into one of two categories: those who do, and those who sit on their bums waiting to “do” another day. But I play for both teams in that regard. Not sure why I’m telling you this. Too lazy to hang my pictures or fix my printer, I guess!

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