My roommate recently got me a book of 300 writing prompts, in the spirit of it being only 6 dollars. It’s a nice little book that I fully intent do make use of since one of the most difficult things for me with writing is remembering what I actually have to say. I have a terrible memory, so if ever I find myself in a moment thinking ‘hey, I should really write about this,’ there is a 101% chance I will forget to. So this’ll be another ongoing series that I’ll continue working on along with Dungeon Delving and baking stuff. So, without any further ado, here’s prompt #1:
What is your favorite way to spend a lazy day?
This is a great question to start on since the reason I’m finally getting around to this is because today is just such a day.
Here’s an outline of the day so far: I started to wake up at around 10am, half-dreaming/half-not, in that limbo where you’re aware of the dream but have zero chance of remembering it when you wake up. I stay that way until keeping my eyes closed becomes a conscious effort, after which, what’s even the point? I open my eyes and grab my phone and spend the next 20 or so minutes on my phone in bed looking at Facebook, emails, texts, articles, stopping to read anything D&D related of course. According to my notifications, one of my GF’s friends has an ugly sweater Christmas party that I forgot about today– the GF is in Chicago this weekend so I don’t know if it’s awkward to go to her friend’s party by myself, so, sorry T-girl if I don’t show. I got another text from some loose acquaintances that I met a year ago on a drunken walkabout (story for another day) asking to swing by a movie/game night tonight as well which I gave a firm maybe– I work tomorrow so maybe not. In case you’re running away with any fanciful notions about me being cool and going to lots of parties, this is not a typical occurrence. I’m usually not in such high demand as a person, and my social exploits are more on the DL as far as parties go. I’m usually more one for more casual speakeasy sorts of hang-outs with a handful of people I like and copious amounts of alcohol to keep things interesting. Not that I’m against parties, they’re just generally inconvenient and require a lot more forethought than they did back in college.
Anyways. I eventually get out of bed and shower because, whether I plan on interacting with people that day or no, I cannot officially Wake Up ™ without showering. It’s so ingrained in my routine that it’s barely just about hygiene, I just have to do it or feel half-asleep and have my eyes feel all crusty all day. It’s the worst. After I showered I did the usual, comb hair, brush teeth, forget that I’m not going anywhere and actually could’ve eaten something before brushing my teeth but oh-well I guess that’s out the window because all food tastes awful for at least the next 40 minutes. So I hold off on breakfast. I’m used to it. Breakfast is a luxury anyways that I’ll substitute for more sleep any day of the week.
I make a mental checklist of anything I actually have to do, which in today’s case was just go to my building’s mail room to pick up packages of Christmas presents. It’s not urgent, so I pass the time by playing some Sea of Thieves (because that game is actually good now that they added things to do in it) and listen to some Critical Role, which is a great old show for people who have hours upon hours to listen to an episode. It was the perfect storm of things that would eradicate the rest of the morning, moving into the afternoon. It was actually a nice combo since I’m listening to episode 41-42 of Critical Role season 2 where they’re doing all the pirate stuff, meanwhile in SoT I sunk a skeleton ship by myself in a sloop by chasing it into some rocks and taking pot shots at it with the cannon. Success. I then went at a couple other skeleton ships, trying the same thing and failing; once because I got lured over to a skeleton fort and got taken down by the towers and another time because the goddamn kraken spawned under me while I was fighting the skeleton ship. The kraken didn’t used to target sloops, so that’s been an alarming adjustment.
Eventually I decided I don’t want to sink any more time into this game as it’s the kind of game that takes a looooooong time to do anything, and I still hadn’t eaten yet today.
Deciding that the breakfast ship has 100% sailed, I get to work on putting together the best lunch for the guy who wants it all but doesn’t want to put a lot of effort into it. The sandwich I make for just such an occasion, I call the Triple-Threat. Smoked turkey, honey ham, and bologna wtih cheddar slices, the last good parts of a questionable head of lettuce, and mayo (which it took me a while to come around to as a condiment, but I’m here for it now, baby). I used to feel embarrassed buying bologna for myself as an adult since it’s basically flat hotdogs, but dammit it’s too good to pass up. None of the Oscar Meyer shit that feels fuzzy when you bite it either. The cheaper the bologna, the better, and I buy Aldi brand so you know it’s the cheapest. As I’ve said on this blog before, I like to live dangerously. But because I am a responsible adult, this beauty of a sandwich is all on wheat bread. I still make an effort.
The sandwich is gone in seconds, may it rest in peace, as I turn my attention towards some of those things I actually had to do today. Namely, the package. Time to put pants on.
Now, this is the most exciting part of my day, a real twist ending. I got an email the other day from [REDACTED IN CASE GF IS READING THIS] saying the [REDACTED] I ordered should have shipped, it’s a little thing so it didn’t take long to get here. I walk over to the mail room and tell them the deets trying to impose as little as possible since I always feel like I’m imposing when I talk to people. “Apartment 401, the other building, I should have a package?”
The lady goes into the back room and comes back with this giant ass box that had me at first thinking she’d given me someone else’s package. I’m about to apologize for this because I’m an awkward human, and point out that I’m in the other building again when I notice my dad’s email address on it. Ah. He had just texted me a few days ago asking what my address was. An interesting twist. I point this out to the lady, wondering if this giant box really is for me, where was the [REDACTED] I had ordered?? She points out to me that it’s probably in the mailbox in my building if it really is as small as I thought. I hadn’t thought of that. Thanking the mail room lady for her wise council, I leave with the giant box, pondering what it could mean…
The mail room lady was right, the [REDACTED] was in an envelope in my personal mailbox, which I then removed, brought upstairs, and packed away with all the other [REDACTED] to await wrapping. I then take a picture of the giant box, sending it to my aforementioned dad asking if it was, quote, “strictly a do-not-open-till-Christmas box?” to which he responded in the affirmative. I really want to open it. It’s right now just sitting on my bed giving off this mysterious, boxy allure, containing anything. I shall not give in. This box cannot be opened. I am unable to open it. I cannot open this box until Christmas, which is as of today 10 days away. I cannot open this box.
Now however, I’ve run out of things I was supposed to do today, and herein lies the crux of the day, the part that actually answers the writing prompt’s question of what my favorite way to spend a lazy day is? As I’ve described, I’ve done everything I usually don’t have time to, and have been able to do it until I was sick of it. I still got out of the apartment, got some brief fresh air, got back, and finished everything I meant to. That’s what I love doing, getting to that point where I’ve checked off every box for the day and have hours to go before I sleep. I think of myself as a lazy person a lot of the time, but I think the truth is that I’m easily distracted and I love my distractions, so I don’t steer away from them. On my lazy days I hit them head on and when I come out the other side I’m actually able to put in the work to do something productive, make myself work on something, do something, make something.
These days are when I get the majority of my writing done, when I’ve done nothing of consequence all day, enjoyed it, but had enough. It’s then that I’ll sit at my computer with a beer and a techno/future-bass playlist up on Youtube, which in my case is the best music to listen to in order to focus on my thoughts and nothing else. Then I sit and just crank away usually until the beer is gone or the thing is done. That’s really by favorite way to spend a lazy day.