Sloth

The room is a mess. Clothes strewn everywhere. My CDs spread out on the table from last night where I was making the most rocking mix ever. There is questionable smell coming from under the bed. It might be the remnants of food from over the last few days. I decide to get up from the bed and I step on my muddy shoes from the late night walk I decided to talk after the CD mix thing! It had rained. Someone was not going to be happy about it.
It's a clear day outside, the sun is shining, the birds are singing, yada yada. I just pull the curtains to a close and decide to go back to bed. I flop back on to the bed. I lay, staring at the ceiling. Simply staring. This is nice. I could get used to this. Thinking nothing about the minutes that pass by. Thinking nothing about the world rushing by, the lady on the street worrying about the bill, that man worrying about his suit, that boy wondering if he could ask his mommy for ice cream, that girl jealous of her sister's boyfriend. Nothing touches me as I simply stare at the ceiling. I hear ambulance and police sirens, nothing touches me.
Then the mother alien screams. She opens my door with a bang and a thud. The thud being a stack of books (including but not limited to LOTR, HP, Asimov, Hawking, Keats, Tagore) that rested against the door. She asks me why I lay there like a zombie. (Zombies don't just lie there, Mom..they eat your brains!) I have been kicked out of my job for the nth time. She wonders if she gave birth to me the wrong time of the day. Maybe my stars are not aligned. Maybe people don;t understand me..all this she does while cleaning my room...
What does she know? I work my ass off for the job so much that it burns me. I must rest a while before moving on to the next one. Even the caterpillar becomes a pupa before turning into a butterfly..yeah right! Enjoy the bliss of laziness..that's me. I go back to staring at the ceiling and everything is good once again.