Lazy

I am so lazy, it is true. My father said I was lazy, which is kind of a distant memory, when I think about it now. But, I am, he was right. Of course, he loved me none the less, I know that.

It was a nothing kind of day, the beginning of my weekend. Time to stop thinking about work.

I always have been. Lazy. I'm equally happy doing nothing, as I am doing anything more interesting. I'm happy to do nothing all day, and as I have always joked, to rest afterwards.

Today was a day to do nothing. I built a fire first thing, as it was zero degrees this morning. I sat in front of it with Buddy and Bruno. Sam had to go into his office. (It's like Patsy Stone going to her office around here now a days when either of us have to go to our)

“You’re going where?”

“The office.”

“What for?”

Shrug. “I have to get a new pass.”

“To the office you don’t go to?”

“That’s what I’m saying.”

So, I had most of the day to myself. I did some op-shop shopping. The sun was shining by the time I left the house, so it was really nice for a walk. I bought a DVD of short films, which I then watched for the rest of the day. I love a short film. Moments, in people’s lives. Windows. Being allowed in just enough. Interesting ideas. I came home with a handful of thoughts.

How lovely it is to do nothing all day. I kept the open fire burning all day despite the sun coming out. I hate over-heated houses, as people so often do in the winter, but open fires don't seem to do that. And the bulldogs love it, stretching out in front of it in their super dog poses. (stretched out, just missing the capes) Side by side. Like a couple of sausages.