After weeks of quitting, quitting quitting, and quitting quitting quitting smoking (et cetera, ad nauseam) for Lent, I finally gave up on trying to keep any sort of blog about the whole debacle. It is frankly embarrassing just how difficult it was for me, a fairly casual smoker, to quit. The more I thought about quitting, the more I told people I had quit, the more I wanted to quit, the more I craved it.
It certainly didn’t help that the whole experience of smoking has always been intensely emotional and therapeutic for me, and since one of my roommates was also a smoker, at any given time I always had access to cigarettes (even when it meant swallowing my pride and acknowledging that I was failing… again).
Today marks the twelfth day in a row that I have not smoked, also, not coincidentally, the twelth day since I moved (actually thirteenth, as it is now after midnight). When I have to go out and buy cigarettes myself my craving is outweighed by my deep-seated and blessed natural laziness.
Which brings me to the point of this post:
The Three Greatest Things Laziness Has Done For Me And How It Can Change Your Life, Too
(Yes, that will be the title of my inspirational self-help novel, coming soon to a cheap-paperback-“Don’t-You-Mean-Augusten-Burroughs?”-selling bookstore near you)
1. I cannot maintain an addiction on my own power.
Smoking is a prime example of this, but also other substance abuse, namely, alcoholism: I love drinking, way more than is healthy for someone of my age with my history of liver damage. Thankfully, though, I’m so lazy that unless someone else is providing the booze, I am unlikely to indulge excessively. One could make the point that this is more due to stinginess than laziness, but the less I spend, the less I have to work.
2. I avoid many unnecessary altercations.
You may be surprised (alarmed, perhaps) to learn that I am actually far more inclined towards violent overreaction than one would guess from spending time with me. Because most people would consider me a rather volatile person already, I would like you to know that there are many, many instances where I do not fly off the proverbial handle. This is not due to any sort of inherent goodness, but rather due to the realisation garnered from many, many years of flipping out: it’s a LOT of work to get that mad. These days I’m so tame that if you cut me off in traffic, chances are I won’t even flip you the bird. It’s not because I forgive you, it’s because I’m lazy.
3. I really can’t be bothered to think of a third point.
Laziness (or, “Sloth”) is considered one of the Seven Deadly Sins, but really, if it prevents me from committing the other six, can it be all that bad?
