Sitting in the chair that makes me feel so lazy I don’t even want to bother breathing. Cannot be burdened with the task. This after a long speel in the equally lazifying shower, where I sat for over 2 hours. My 9am BUY NOTHING appointment cancelled and the other possibility is someone who seems to not remember that I am the one who gave her a salad spinner a month or so ago. These BUY NOTHING groups are straight-up transactional, no friendship and only perfunctory kindnessto be had. The last giveaway, the kid was actually pretty rude but I’d give her a break for being probably only 13 and performing this chore at her mother’s behest.
I’ve been concatenating and organizing my showercam videos as if there was a tremendous payoff waiting for me at the end of the chore. I like watching myself shower. That’s probably considered strange but I like casually assessing these typically unassessable interludes from my days. I do not have a particular fetish for it but videos of women showering often interest me for forensic insights. One woman scrubs the bottoms of her feet so vigorously it’s like she wants to rid herself of that pesky flesh on which she walks. Another woman appears to actually and in fact shove her finger up into her anus but I think it’s not that penetrative. Sure looked it, though. Women wash their legs. Men, I’ve read, do not, although I most certainly do. Sitting in the shower, one of the most satisfying and meaningful changes I ever made to my diurnal routines, makes scrubbing those calfy extremities much less of a reach, and less of a falling hazard. I never especially worried about falling in the shower. It was not any part of why I decided to sit my way through those daily ablutions. But it does happen. It happened to me once and I should have seen a doctor because I likely had a concussion. But then what would a doctor do but tell me this? Would s/he perform a head transplant? I guess there could have been value in knowing if there was internal bleeding or whatnot but it’s been years now and I’m still ticking. Kind of. Trickling.
I still feel lazy. I may have been born lazy but if not this chair would make me feel that way.
The big chore in proessing the shower videos is not concatenating them but deleting the hours upon hours of stagnant videos showing nothing but an empty bathtub. it is never deliberate but I frequently forget to turn the camera off, leaving it to make a scintillating documentary os a tub in which nothing happens. For a couple of days the drain was stopped up and that caused the tub to fill part way. I saved that video, in which the tub slowly drained of its stopped upw ater. That’s art. But mostly I am merciless in ridding this world we share of 20+ hours of Warholian nothingnesses.
It is after 10am and the day already feels like it is over. I need to walk my walk and today’s task shall be counting the exact number of steps it takes to cross the Ed Koch/Queensboro Bridge. Necause no one ever asked but everyone needs to know. I also might pay those mythical West Side phone booths a visit to make sure they still do not work. Wouldn’t want to disrupt that little patch of serenity. They are a bother to get to. Subway up to 110 then walk all the bleeping way down to 66th Street. There is basically no bus along West End Avenue until something like 72nd Street and by the who even cares…