A Poet's Heart

For the second day in a row I have slept-in.
Hibernated. Zonked.
← Like a darted rhino.
I love weekends. I love the freedom of waking when my body is ready to do so, and spending an hour or two just wondering what it is I may want to do with the day, and having no real prior plans, one way or the other.
For some people, that sort of scenario could precipitate panic, or something near to it. Nothing to do, and all day to do it.
They need or at least prefer a prior schedule. The day, slotted with specific things that need to be done or accomplished.
This is an entirely valid way to live, I am not slighting it. It is just not the way I myself am set up.
I prefer the opened up, undefined vista. In fact, I jealously guard the continuance of this feature of the unaccounted-for time that is allotted me. Often I wonder where this desire originated, in me. The conclusion I sometimes arrive at, is that I am inherently lazy. The thing is, there is no one I know of, that is LESS lazy than I am, during the other five days of the week!
I am working in a very physically and mentally demanding job for a minimum of 10 full hours a day, and I never ever miss work. I don’t even “use” my allotted sick days. I only call in sick if I actually have something like malaria, or worse.
Is this how an inherently lazy person lives?
I don’t know.
For now I am going to go with the following personally-believed explanation of my unrestricted access to leisure time → I have a poet’s heart!
More than anything else I treasure, I want to maintain the right to compose absolutely irrelevant poetry, without having to justify it to myself or anyone else.
Poetry LIKE THIS!
Have a great Sunday, all!
-- Cip

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