Sunlight - It Does Your Roommate Good

I understand that everyone lives their lives as they see fit. Fine. Awesome. Dandy. But I need to voice my opinion (and that's all it is) on how disgusted I get when I am faced with laziness. Not just temporary “oh man I drank too much last night so I‘m going to veg out for the day” laziness, but, consistent, CONSTANT, all-consuming laziness.

I’ve mentioned before how modern technology, although wonderful on so many levels, reinforces that gene we carry that encourages us to take short cuts exerting as little energy as possible in every task we attempt to fulfill. Most of us fight that gene and live a well-balanced life. But, in my house, there is one technology that causes my 20-something roommate to waste his life away - the damn boob tube. Supplemented by the “old school” technologies of a sofa, Doritos and pot-filled bongs, my roommate has to be one of the laziest human beings that I’ve had associated in my life….and it often drives me to the brink of insanity.

I know what you’re thinking: “To each their own, Rachel. Focus on your own life and don’t worry about his life or anyone else’s.” But you know what? We share a 900 square foot house with one living room and one bathroom and he makes me want to literally light a fire under his ass and force him outside so that I can get a moment of peace and quiet in my house without hearing the "The Simpsons" in the background.

I brought the subject up yesterday during one of our girltime bitchfests because each time I walked in and out of the house this weekend there he was, solidly planted on the couch - TiVo remote in one hand and his handy-dandy bong in the other. “BOOP BOOP” goes the tivo, “GURGLE GURGLE” goes the bong and my eyes roll to the back of my head. I want to scream at him, “DO SOMETHING FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. Walk. Bike. Skip. Stand on your head. Read. Smoke your ganja on the patio. I don‘t care. Just stop growing couch sores on your body, exposing me to your mug and wasting away your precious 20s.”

It’s such a waste. There are people who fight for their lives on a daily basis. I highly doubt that their fighting so that they can catch the next episode of "Survivor". Shoot, there’s a dude down on the boardwalk all the time who has no legs and just scoots himself around on a skateboard. If he can stay active and enjoy life, shouldn’t we all? HELLLLOOOO, we live in Southern California. We didn’t move here for the air quality or the exceptional local news. We moved here for sunshine and warmth. Well, except him. Apparently he moved here for the caress of my sofa, the quality marijuana and the Comcast buffet of television stations.

I suppose one person’s weakness can be turned into another’s strength. Seeing his vomit-inducing laziness and wasted youth reminds me of how lucky I am to be healthy, young and living in a place that allows me so many opportunities. No matter how beat I am, every time I come home and see his marshmallow ass rotting away on the couch, I tie up the Nikes, harness up the dog or jump on the pink cruiser and embrace the fact that I still have knees and hips that work on their own.

I just beg you. If you are a person who only sees the sunlight when you’re walking out to pick up the mail or forced at gunpoint, please please please take some time and expose your skin to the cancer-inducing sun rays. And if you’re not going to do it for yourself, do it for those who live with you. And if you don’t? I’ll write another blog and this time it’ll be about you. And you won’t like that.

PS: Ironically, I’m sitting here writing this at 6:45 in the evening, and as I peer into the living room, there he is - literally drooling on the couch and it’s sunny and glorious outside. Groody. I'm going for a walk.