I am incredibly lazy. There. I said it. I would like nothing more than to spend every morning lolling in bed, alternating a spot of light reading with some good dream-filled dozes, and being brought snacks on a tray from time to time. Around noon, I'd get up (though not dressed, because that would take effort) and venture as far as downstairs. There, I'd watch a movie or two, drink fruity cocktails through a straw, and turn my hand to a bit of sketching if I was feeling energetic. After a mid-afternoon siesta, I'd write for a couple of hours – well, when I say write, I wouldn't actually use my hands, dear me no. I'd dictate, the words flowing easily and rapidly from my lips. Then I'd eat a three-course meal (prepared, of course, by someone else), listen to a little music and go back to bed for eight more hours. Perfect. Unfortunately, life insists on throwing up obstacles along my path towards this paradise. You see, no-one else realises how lazy I am, because I'm one of those people who hides their laziness behind a smokescreen of efficiency. Why? Because efficiency is the lazy person's best friend. Doing everything you need to do promptly and with the minimum of fuss gains you valuable hours that you can then spend being lazy. For instance, I never miss a deadline. Missing a deadline causes stress and panic, plus the added hassle of people yelling at you. I hate being yelled at. I like an easy life. So I get all my work done on time, which keeps everyone happy and makes them think I'm an exceptionally hard worker. And don't get me wrong – I do work hard. But it's only because I'm too lazy not to. It's the same with all the writing projects I keep undertaking. Really I'm just too lazy to come up with a good way of saying no. And as for having a baby … well, they sleep most of the time, don't they? Which means I'll have an excuse to do the same. Yep, there's no denying it all makes perfect sense. As I said, I'm lazy. I live my life in the belief that the more I do now, the less I'll have to do later. Trouble is, there's always something else that needs doing before I can achieve my nirvana. Turns out efficiency just invites more work, and all those lovely hours of lounging around that I'm working so hard for never materialise. Which means to all intents and purposes, I'm not lazy at all. Still, at least I'm doing some interesting stuff in the meantime.
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