NOW IS THE SUMMER OF MY SLOTHFUL CONTENTMENT
Lately I have been feeling, I don’t know, not depressed, not disconnected, but I’m definitely on the down low. It’s not the hibernation that I lapse into in late fall/early winter. It’s more like inertia, laziness, apathy, all rolled up in a ball of contentment. In fact it is very reminiscent of summertime when I was a teenager. Those halcyon days of nothing to do, nowhere to go, not a care in the world.
My days consisted of opening my eyes and lolling around in bed until about 10am, at which time I would don a bathing suit and meet my friends at the bus stop to catch the bus to the beach. Or sometimes we’d stick our thumbs out, if a car with cute boys in it approached, and if life was really good they would stop and we’d pile in, worrying about how we’d get home later. There were a couple of guys who would always stop their orange Econoline van and give us a lift. It got to where they would hang out with us at the beach and then give us a ride back. The interior of the van featured shag carpeting, not only on the floor, but up the walls and onto the ceiling. There were huge stereo speaker back there and we would listen to Houses of the Holy everyday on the way home.
After a shower and dinner we would congregate at Laura’s house because her parents were often out, and if they were home they never bothered us. We’d sit in her room and watch TV, play records, read magazines and smoke cigarettes. All at the same time. The next day we’d start all over again. On the weekends we’d try to find parties to go to, or occasionally hit the rec center at the park if a band was playing. We weren’t old enough to drive so our mobility was limited. Occasionally, if someone’s parents were gone we’d sneak out in the car, but the fear of getting busted was pretty prohibitive and that also involved a level of effort we weren’t into expending.
So this summer I’m feeling very much like I did that summer when I was fifteen. Of course I still get up and work out every morning during the week. I go to work. But, it seems I can’t be bothered with a social life. I’ve got no chat and no desire to do much beyond going home at the end of the day and puttering around my house. I am not even starting projects. I turn on the stereo and make dinner, open the mail and then flop on the couch with a book. I’ll read a chapter and then turn on the television, but mute the sound and before I know it I’ve fallen asleep.
I am sincerely hoping that, as it was at age fifteen, this is just a phase I’m going through because while I never thought twice about my slothful lethargy nowadays I’m a little concerned by it. I’m used to being out four nights a week! My inner parent is standing inside my brain with hands on hips yelling, “what’s wrong with you?”
And all I do is shrug.