the battle of sluggish sloth vs. busy bee

i don't get the feeling that every type of person finds productivity rewarding. there are those chronically lazy types (brad pitt in "true romance" comes to mind, for those who are loyal quentin tarantino fans and have seen what some men have called their favorite film of all time) who seem to want nothing more from life than, well, nothingness. the lack of activity (lacktivity? sounds lactation-related but i still like it) is the coveted oasis for this sect of the population. i, however, fall somewhere in the middle of the spectrum. i am not up at 7 on a saturday and raring to go on a 7 mile hike. i definitely enjoy pulling the covers over my head to block out the sun (who am i kidding--sun in SF?) and soaking up the fruits of leisure when i can, but sleeping until the late afternoon, getting up to eat a sandwich (or better yet, eating the sandwich in bed--ahem, george costanza), and then going back to bed is something i find depressing.

i value my days, to a certain extent, by the activities they contain and the satisfaction i gain. especially right now, as i prep for a 2.5 month voyage to spain and beyond, i have a set number of days until my departure and a list of logistics to get in order longer than rapunzel's hair. even though i intend to plan close to nothing and leave most adventures up to game-time decisions, there is still this excruciating minutiae to tackle before i can step off u.s. soil. if a (jobless) day goes by with nothing to show for it but a couple grilled cheese sandwiches and the depletion of my DVR archives, i begin to feel kind of worthless. at the risk of getting heavy and existential for a moment, what is the point of this life if nothing happens? if every day was a syndicated repeat of the same show from the previous day, would you still watch it over and over? some people want that numbing redundancy, the absence of decision-making and change. but i--and maybe you--crave that each day gives and does something unique. it needn't be hugely significant, but i want to say, "hello there, day. give me something. make me a little cooler, wiser, savvier, more ahead-of-the-curve, armed with a truly random experience i didn't have in my memory the day before." no matter how seemingly inconsequential, i am convinced that everything we see, say, do and play contributes to our persona and mindset. even when i go to trader joe's to arm my fridge and pantry for the upcoming weeks, i mandate that i buy something new with each visit. cheese puffs, tomatillo salsa, english toffee, snap peas. anything refreshingly atypical. without that, i end up filling my cart with a bounty identical to the prior trip and that makes me uneasy.

though i constantly feel like leonard in "memento" (a must-see if you haven't yet) with a horribly faulty short-term memory, i never want to feel as though i am living in "groundhog day"; routine redundancy squashes my potential for excitement like a careless foot on a sidewalk tomato (you know, because that happens all the time). really, there are two relevant factors that i regard with a certain amount of significance: productivity and variety. i try to achieve my ideal balance of effectiveness and relaxation, and simultaneously feel weakened by the lack of constant change and progression, no matter how minor. some routine is inevitable and, frankly, quite comforting, but the lack of it entirely makes me feel stale, stagnant, ineffectual. i fully acknowledge that everyone has their own recipe for daily living; what makes me feel that much better might make you feel that much worse. if you love lazing, don't let me stop you. after all, what do i know? i'm just one person, one mind, some of which is corrupt and twisted, some of which may be worthwhile. i don't want to be preachy so i leave it to you--be inspired, offended, or apathetic. in the end, balance is the tastiest treat i've been able to find and savor. stress a little less, do a little more, get down tonight.