Sometimes I amaze even myself at the depths of laziness I can sink to.
The whole of Sunday yesterday was basically spent in an inert, horizontal, and mostly unconscious position. Granted, my Sundays are usually lazy, but this one really takes the cake. I was all alone in my room, didn’t go home to Bulacan, so there was absolutely nobody – no nagging mother, no “makulit” nieces, no sense of family obligation (they hardly ever see me) to nudge me out of bed and into the bright and shiny world.
I woke up sometime past 11 AM, gasped, and shrugged. Mentally went over my cache of food, then padded over to get the Eng Bee Tin hopia. Watched a couple of episodes of “Heroes” while lying down on the bed, nibbling on hopia, the laptop sitting atop the laundry hamper.
Took a nap.
Watched “Heroes” again after waking up from nap. This time, I finished up to Episode 14 of “Heroes,” and that of course is as far as I could go, since they haven’t even aired the next one yet.
I also fed myself some rice and canned tuna, which was my only full meal of the day. I told myself that the lack of exercise (lack of movement, really) for the day can be compensated by the lack of food intake. Watched “An Inconvenient Truth” while eating, and, halfway through the film, inexplicably felt very sleepy. It wasn’t Al Gore’s fault, really, it was just my body sensing the day’s trend and wanting all the sleep it could possibly get.
Took a nap, again. Woke up at nearly ten at night, feeling ironically awake and decidedly befuddled. Stared at the ceiling for a while wondering what to do.
At this point I pause in my typing to ask myself, do I really want to blog about this? This is getting more and more pathetic by the minute.
If you love me, you have to take this part of me. This part of me that can be spend 2/3 of a day asleep, unmindful of the very messy room, the tasks unfinished, the dirty laundy, of everything and everyone.
In fairness, the past week had been very tiring; and I’ve been pulling 11-12-hour workdays, topped by a raket that I had to work on until the wee hours of Friday. The question now is this: after a workweek like that, is one justified spending a buhay-baboy weekend, or, should one go out and refresh oneself with non-work stuff – explore the outdoors, spend time with family, do creative stuff? Because after Sundays like this one, I sometimes get the feeling – Where did my Sunday go? I mean, I could understand “Heroes,” it’s amazing, it’s the sort of thing you just have to marathon, but that was just four episodes. Hiro Nakamura teleported all the way to New York in pursuit of a mission, and where was I? I was asleep.