The Apathy of Laziness

Huh, that sounds like a book title.

Anyway, I’m trying to think of something to write for these things (like really, I’m not interesting, why) and I got to thinking about my life. Which is entirely uninteresting. But, it does contain one fact: I’m lazy.

Sometimes, it’s due to me forgetting to take my Adderall. I don’t get that kick-start of motivation, or I don’t take the second dose and kind of wither away into nonfocused tiredness. I just sit and do mindless things – playing games on my phone, mostly – for hours. I know that I need to get up and go do something, but I look at the clock, mentally shrug, and think, “I’ve got time.”

Other times, it’s caused by procrastination. Even medicated, I look at a clock and think the same thing. I fully intend to do the thing, but time goes by and suddenly it’s too late to do the thing. That’s how laundry piles up, dishes sit, and cats go unfed. Though I make sure to take care of my cats! And, if I don’t, I have a wonderful other half to watch out for them. It does make me question how good of a human baby parent I’d be, though. Ack.

The rest of the time, it’s just because I simply do not want to do the thing. I don’t want to wash the dishes that have piled up and wouldn’t have been so bad if only I’d done it before. The cat litter boxes are so bad that I really don’t want to dig out the chunks – if I owned the property I lived in, I’d just dump them out back and start fresh. Logically, I know that I NEED to do the thing. I try to work up the motivation to do the thing. Most of the time, I fail because of the other part of the title of this article: apathy.

When I’m in the depths of my laziness, I’m simply too lazy to care. It could be exhaustion, or it could be childhood defenses come to rise (you can’t be hurt if you don’t allow yourself to feel!). Whatever the case, at my worse, I simply don’t care enough to do anything, even eat or drink. Did that cause my dehydration that made me go to the hospital? Or was is overwork that caused me to forget to eat and drink? Whatever the case, I’ll have to remind myself, “Hey, you haven’t eaten since nine this morning and it’s four in the afternoon. You might wanna get a nibble.”

I don’t know what the end goal here is. Maybe I’m just trying to sum up my own feelings so they make sense to me. I’m certainly not going to use this as an excuse – as my favorite fanfic author says, “There are reasons, but no excuses.” I don’t want this to excuse my laziness and let it continue. I want this to serve as a reminder so that maybe I can get a kick up the ass and actually do stuff.

Maybe I’ll go play tennis – well, hit the ball at said other half and watch it go out of bounds, or get the swing-and-a-miss treatment, and then wait for it to come back. Then I miss it, and the cycle continues. Lack of exercise can cause lethargy, right? Right?

Ah, who am I kidding.

Welp

Looks like my previous blog was a bit too soon. It turns out that there’s only so long a person can be yelled at for doing their job before they snap. My breaking point was last Friday, June 9, when I got called back to my department and yelled at for leaving it unattended to do a pick up order. Keep in mind this is common practice, as there’s not really anyone I can call to watch if there’s no one scheduled for the surrounding departments.

I got fed up and, when asked if I worked Saturday, informed them I wouldn’t be. I left my vest and turned in the keys, cleaned out my locker, and walked out. Yes, I was upset and incredulous with myself, and yes, it will be more difficult to pay our bills.

However. The peace of mind I have now – no more working seven days each week! No more stress from a company that doesn’t care about me! – has more than made up for the lack of finances. I know that, with careful budgeting and spending, we’ll be able to manage. It will take self-control and discipline, but we will succeed. I won’t let Walmart have the last laugh.

And… well, how satisfying does it feel to know that I can get my revenge from beyond the grave, so to speak? 11 years with a company gives people a certain… shall we say, repertoire of knowledge concerning practices that are against company policy or downright illegal. To answer the first question, it feels quite satisfying to know that I can get people fired.

Yes, I know it’s petty, but I’m angry. Livid. Infuriated that I felt like I had to quit to get some respite. Before, I feared retaliation. I have no such concerns now.

On the plus side, I have a lot more time on my hands now! I can work on Corinne and Robbie’s story. I can work on Trust’s sequel. Maybe I can do more around the house, even. Wouldn’t that be nice?

Belated updates, whoo

It’s been ages, I know, but I have a good excuse this time.

In addition to being an overworked and underpaid Walmart Associate, I am now a reporter! The Pointe Coupee Banner thinks my writing is good enough to write articles for them, and I’ve been doing it for the past nine or ten months.

Let me tell you, though, writing nonfiction articles is a much different beast from writing fiction. With fiction, if I don’t know the exact circumstances behind something, I can fudge the details under the guise of creative license.

With a newspaper, and especially the official journal of the parish, the details matter. If you’re not sure of the truth, it can’t be printed, it’s that simple. The attention to detail – who, what, where – can mean the difference between an article and an opinion piece. I can’t speculate to make the story more interesting. I can only work with the facts, no matter how bare or uninteresting they are.

All I can do to make my articles interesting is to have a good writing style. Hopefully, the positive responses I’ve received from the articles I’ve written are an indication that my style is good enough to keep people reading. I now have people requesting me, specifically, to write their articles. How strange is that?

Decades from now, people may look into the archives and see what I’ve written. People may clip my articles for keepsakes. It’s… daunting and terrifying. Every author wants to have their writing read in the years to come. Before, it was an abstract concept. Now I have that reality in front of me and I wonder if I’m good enough to deserve that.

There’s no point in wondering, or having doubts. All I can do is keep writing.