Yes, I am physically lazy.
Always have been.
I hate excercise.
My main focus at school was to avoid sport. It was fortunate that during my very first tennis lesson, the server slammed the ball into my eye so I could feign terror of tennis to the gym teacher, so she let me off tennis. Someone bombed me in a swimming lesson and the teacher rescued me from the bottom of the pool. I feigned pool terror. The teacher let me off swimming.
My motto has been – never run if you can walk, never walk if you can sit, and never sit if you can lie down. It has worked all my life so far.
But now there is a convergence occurring that needs attention.
The neighbour walks the dog, so I don’t anymore. He gets much better walks from her – goes miles, in fact.
The weather is crummy, rain, ice, snow – always something to do with water. They don’t have lakes all over the place here for nothing. So I’m not walking to see my sister twice a week. I drive.
I never go out otherwise.
Gardening is out. Everything is dead. The ground is iced solid.
Swimming on Thursdays has been cancelled because of Covid-19.
And the final situation is that we now have a robot vacumn cleaner. He’s wonderful! I never have to do a thing except empty his tummy when he has finished his duties. If I change his tummy for a water tank, he even mops the kitchen and bathroom floors.
Whats there to do?
I know!
Eat!
Mr Furlong is a kitchen creature. He produces great food.
Food plus laziness equals fat.
It’s simple Math.
The Last Furlong 