There’s nothing better

I like to sit around and do nothing. There’s nothing better.

Sure, laying down doing nothing can be a sweet and decent thing. But then it often spoils because I’ll fall asleep and dream-go to some other place and circumstance where I’m up, hectically having to do things. Yeah, it is a simpler form of time and space travel. Though you don’t get to pick your destination. But then if things go afoul and unfixable in the dream, I’ll soon wake up, back in my bed where all is well. Unless I fall back asleep. That’s why I prefer sitting and doing nothing.

This morning I was sitting in my big old leather lounge chair doing nothing. I looked forward to six to eight hours of this perfect loveliness, when my dog Rexy got up from her doggie bed and walked into the Time Machine. I languidly told her to get out of there. She looked at me, said, “Whatever,” slapped her pawn on the destination pad and was gone in an instant.

For the first time, sitting and doing nothing was ruined. I was frantic. I had no idea where Rexy had gone to in time. She had never done this on her own before. I got up and started pacing. Pacing is one of the most brilliant things invented. Franticness is an agitator, but pacing is a nullifier. Within two minutes I’d forgotten all about Rexy. Within a few more minutes I was getting my second wind and started questioning my sitting around assumption. Perhaps pacing was better. Sure, it starts with conniption, but that assuages to peacefulness. Plus I get exercise!

Suddenly Rexy returned in the Time Machine. She was soaked, covered with seaweed, and had a flopping grouper fish in her mouth. She shook off the water and the seaweed, getting much of it on me. I called her a bad girl, and she gave me the slight eye. She laid down in her doggie bed and began eating the fish.

I pulled off the seaweed, and put it outside in the compost bin. I came back in and changed into dry clothes. I sat back in my big old leather lounge chair and tried to continue with the nothing, but got irritated with Rexy’s loud chewing. It came to me that I was hungry. I got down on the ground with Rexy and took a bite out of other end of the fish she hadn’t gotten to yet. It was incredibly fresh tasting. I thought, “There’s nothing better than this.”