LAzybones

There's something to be said about that lot of people who find life's pleasures doing nothing significant in the house whatsoever. Their sole purpose is to sit back and relax. They also seem to live for nobody but themselves. I'm still trying to understand whether to slap them hard into reality ( in case you haven't noticed, your world is without hassle cause people like ME work horses hours without a second for ME TIME, while you graze from the infinite pool of self indulgence!! HMPF!!) or will I be better off emulating a thing or two from these strange creatures. Lord knows I've tried every trick in the book- from the good old bribe( what's a few sweat and tears for a quick buck eh?), to the magic of emotionally blackmailing them to see the whole point!!!. Nothing works. Hello... Sistah single-handedly doing all menial house hold jobs... anyone out there??? I best not speak anything, for I am wont of the wrath of the evil one... She bellows when I so much as speak.... One screech from the evil one is enough to fill a bucket of my ill- required and less appreciated tears!! At last you are left with the silent yet indignant sense of pride( YES, I did EVERYTHING!!!). But that hardly lasts a few minutes. Haven't you heard? Dust is clogging up the ventilation. Time to miss yet another couple of hours of sleep. Wait? do I even know what that feels like? The body swings into action- almost on auto-pilot. The face may or may not relay whats going on behind the mask of serenity. It all depends on what the God of all mood swings desires. Ooh Mariah's playing on my I-pod. That gives me an extra few minutes to stop mopping around(wait, did I actually admit that I mope??!!) While she tells me how Obsessed a certain foul mouthed stringer of insinuating lyrics is, I scrub away; almost delighted at the demeaning task of rinsing that glass someone else drank out of 3 days back. But before long, the song is over and you realize you are indeed not backstage at her concert, but right here, on earth, in the midst of the dirt you played no part in creating. The finger raises to wipe a greasy ( eeewwwwuu) forehead, resigned to the fact that this is your fate as long as you are the silent pall-bearer of those screams of resentment and unfair treatment that somehow die in your throat because the lazy one won't stop to think twice before she acrimoniously puts you right back in your place- Hey.. you choose to keep the place clean. I didn't ask you to do it!!!
And so the beast speaks.... Hey, Garbage bags to be thrown out.....Anybody listening- asks the voice inside me- Off we go again SISTEROBOT!