Originally uploaded by the eMotionBlogster.
I've got a bit of an "Old Mother Hubbard" thing happening at my place right now and I really do want to redress it, but I literally cannot be bothered. The supermarket is only 2 blocks away and yet I just can't find the desire to walk down there, browse the aisles, pay the charge, and trudge back here with my purchases. I really can't.
So I've been lying here on my bed, mentally going over the meagre contents of my fridge, freezer, and pantry, wondering what ingredients I might cobble together into something edible. [Note I refused to use the word 'meal' here - let's get real.]
And on the way to the supermarket, I would have to pass the drycleaners, and I have two pairs of black pants that need hemming. But will I take them in? Hell no. I get the sneaking suspicion that they are destined to remain inside-out and folded at the foot of my bed, where they have been for at least two weeks already, for the foreseeable future.
Speaking of clothes requiring some attention, my laundry is all bundled up ready to go (only sorted tonight mind you). But do you think I can be stuffed walking down to the laundromat? It's only in the building next door of course but, since I have yet to master the 'walking through walls' thing, I figure it can wait. Mercifully I have enough clean underwear to get me through a few more days yet. I know you are thrilled to learn such things.
Okay so I think I need to employ people to do these chores for me. I was reading about Lindsay Lohan and her alleged powder-sniffing habit and it turns out that her staff are being questioned in the uproar. I could care less what Lindsay stuffs up her nostrils to be honest. What caught my attention about the 'news story' was the repeated reference to her "people". I could do with an entourage, I think. I could find them tasks to do for me (hey, this blog post has already raised several glaring examples) and I could keep my minions gainfully employed doing the things I can't be bothered doing. Is that mean? Probably. Particularly because I'm sure I can't afford to keep them handsomely paid. Damn you, money.
And in any case, let's face it. How long would it be before I started making outrageous prima donna demands on my peeps and they got the unions involved? How long before laundry and grocery shopping turned into cleaning up after me, or going to the office for me on rainy days? Or on any days I couldn't be bothered doing it for myself? I think it would happen freakishly quickly actually. Perhaps best to abandon the entourage idea and just continue to whine about a lack of energy and no food.
Ugh okay, just got hit with a rather painful stab of genuis and remembered I have enough in the kitchen to make dinner for tonight.
Doh, if only the kitchen weren't so far away...