I am the anti-productivity.
It just stresses me out when people start doing productive things. I first noticed this when my roommates would do their laundry. Jennie would start collecting her clothes to bring downstairs and all I could say was "don't do it." I would start coming up with excuses for why she needed to not do laundry. I would tell her I needed help deciding what to eat, that she needed to wait for a funny video to load. I would do everything in my power short of desperately blocking the door to keep her from doing her laundry.
This is weird, I know, and I don't even know why I do it. Except for I kind of know. When I feel like I am not being productive and I see that someone else is on the verge of productivity, I start to freak out inside. I feel like if I can keep them from doing what they need to do, then I will feel better about not doing what I need to do.
It makes sense. Misery loves company, people, misery loves company.
But over the years this has ventured so far from laundry. Now, anytime anyone tells me that they are going to do anything slightly productive, I simply reply with "don't."
Just don't do it. You will be so much happier if you sit here and keep me and my laziness company. You will only be stressed out if you start studying, go to the grocery store, empty the dishwasher, write your paper, or take your test. Trust me, I know what's best for you.
But it's not even these big, time-consuming things. Just now as Jennie was lounging on the couch she said, "Man, I really wanna get some water!" And so naturally I say "Don't." Just don't do it. And I mean, can you blame me? Look at how comfortable she looks.
Books and computer in place, feet up on the table, happiness abounding. The thought of her having to leave that position and never being able to find optimum comfort again is legitimately stressful to me. Thirsty? Don't be. You will be happier.
Moments after this exchange of words this little gem appeared on my wall:
I accept that I will never be able to express how long or how hard Jennie and I laughed over this picture. Please try to understand that it so perfectly embodies the nature of our relationship. Thinking productive thoughts? Don't.
In conclustoin*, just to prove that Jennie knows the inner workings of my soul, she just posted this on my wall:
You guys, don't even get me started. My inability to keep track of my keys is ridikulus.
*conclusion. Original typo left for your entertainment.