Story 476: How Easy It Is to Not Do Something

(On the phone)

Sibling 1: Hey, whatcha doing?

Sibling 2: Oh, not much, just taking the kids to school soon, then gotta get to work for the next eight-and-a-half hours, plus squeeze in food shopping somewhere between the end of my shift and picking the kids up from school, and cooking –

Sibling 1: That’s great; I need your advice on something.

Sibling 2: Sure, go ahead.

Sibling 1: I’ve got this huge mess in the apartment that’s really just the smaller messes joining forces into one giant horde, and it’s been hanging over me that I should do something about it, and I don’t know, what do you think?

Sibling 2: …Seriously?!

Sibling 1: It’s really bothering me.

Sibling 2: (Sighs) I dunno, maybe just throw everything out at this point.

Sibling 1: Now that’s plain wasteful.  And I might want to keep a few things that’re hiding at the bottom.

Sibling 2: Then just tackle it a bit at a time and go through what you want to keep and want you can get rid of.

Sibling 1: (Whines) But that’ll take forever!

Sibling 2: Fine, you’ve gone this long living with it so keep on not doing anything about it then; the world won’t end.

Sibling 1: Really?  It won’t?

Sibling 2: (Sighs again) Yes, it’ll only actually end as the sun expands into a red giant.  I’m hanging up now.  (Ends the call)

Sibling 1: (Staring into the middle distance) The world won’t end if I don’t do a thing….

(At a department store)

Supervisor (To Sibling 1): Hey – you gonna get around to taking care of the reshelves sometime tonight or what?

Sibling 1: (Was zoned out while leaning against a fixture) Eh?

Supervisor: I said, we’ve got a leaning tower of reshelves – you gonna put those away anytime soon?

Sibling 1: That sounds different from what you said the first time.

Supervisor: And?!

Sibling 1: And I’ll get right on those. 

Supervisor: (Smiles tightly) Thank you.  (Mutters while walking away) Weirdo slacker.

Sibling 1: (Resumes zoning out) Eventually….

(In Sibling 1’s apartment)

Sibling 1: (While opening mail, reads a notice) “Please reply with your donation in seven days” – or else what?  (Tosses the letter onto the giant mess pile and opens another) “Please remit payment for this bill in seven days” – or else what?  (Tosses the letter onto the giant mess pile and opens another) “Please submit your annual tax return in seven days” – or else what?  (Tosses the letter onto the giant mess pile, which heaves as it expands once again)

(At a café)

Sibling 2: (Enters in a rush, sees Sibling 2 at a table, and heads over there to sit) Hey, sorry I’m late: had to take the dog to the vet, and then start the turkey and hors d’ouevres and sheet cake for the party tonight –

Sibling 1: Yeah, sounds fun – I picked us up coffee and muffins, but that was a chore, let me tell you.  (Slides over Sibling 2’s drink and dish)

Sibling 2: How’s that?  (Blow vigorously on the coffee and proceeds to down it)

Sibling 1: Well, I took your advice and cut a lot of activity out of my life –

Sibling 2: (Mouth full of muffin) Huh?

Sibling 1: – and I’ve been noticing that the less I’ve been doing, the less I want to do.

Sibling 2: Is this about that garbage-dump mess in your apartment?  `Cause I can help you go through all that stuff if you want.

Sibling 1: (Sighs softly and settles even more into the chair) You’re very generous with your time and talent, but the mess and I have reached an understanding.  No, it’s gone way past that now: I’m just finding it easier and easier not to do things I don’t want to do, and I’m suffering few to zero consequences for it so I’m incrementally doing even more… less, if that’s actually possible.

Sibling 2: (Finishes the muffin) Heh, lucky.

Sibling 1: Don’t rush to envy: as much of a blessing, `tis also a curse.  There are fewer things I want to do now, and I’m choosing more often not to do them.  I’m surprised I even made it here today.

Sibling 2: Oh no, are you suffering from depression?

Sibling 1: No, nothing that legitimate: I’m just incredibly lazy.

Sibling 2: Oh.  Then get over it.

Sibling 1: That would require actual effort on my part, and my current lifestyle is the complete opposite of that.

Sibling 2: (Checks wristwatch, stands, and grabs wallet) Well, this was lovely – I gotta go make sure the kids are done cleaning the house and then finish what they missed, so good luck with your newfound life of leisure, I’m sure you’ll have a wonderfully miserable time.  (Tosses some money on the table) I assume you somehow managed to stir yourself enough to pay the cashier, so here’s my half.  I’m going back to my nonstop life now, byyyeeee!!!  (Takes the coffee cup and dish to deposit them at the garbage area, and leaves in a rush)

Sibling 1: (Stares at the money, coffee, and muffin) But it’s so easy not to do something; no effort at all.

Employee: (Wipes down Sibling 2’s side of the table) Not to hurry you out, but we’ve got a line of people waiting to sit and you’ve been here almost an hour, just saying.  (Moves on to wipe down other occupied tables)

Sibling 1: (Sighs again and gently picks at the mostly-intact muffin) So easy….

Story 430: I Wasn’t Expecting Company Today

 (In the parking lot of Friend 1’s apartment building)

Friend 1: (Struggling to get out of the passenger side of Friend 2’s car while carrying skis and poles, which keep hitting the door frame) Did you ever have buyer’s remorse within an hour of purchase?

Friend 2: I am not driving you back to the mall; we barely made it out intact as it is.

Friend 1: (Constantly falling back into the passenger seat when hitting the door frame) Yeah, but people sure did get out of our way once I had these babies!  Oof.

Friend 2: You don’t ski!

Friend 1: (Takes a short break before trying to get out again) That’s a fallacious argument: I never had skis to ski, so now that I have skis I will ski.

Friend 2: If you’re going to randomly take up a sport then just rent the equipment at a lodge!

Friend 1: Oh.  (Falls back again)

Friend 2: Urgh; let me.  (Unbuckles seat belt, gets out of the car, walks around to the other side, and grabs the skis and poles from Friend 1)

Friend 1: (Gets out of the car and takes the equipment back) Much obliged.

Friend 2: You’d better be.  (Starts to walk back to the driver’s side but slips on some ice and falls) Whoop!

Friend 1: (Stares at the prone figure on the ground for a few moments) You OK?

Friend 2: (Tries to stand but winces in pain) Ah!  No, I think I sprained my ankle.

Friend 1: Drat.  You have a habit of slipping and falling on ice, and of course the one time you actually hurt yourself it’s in my building’s parking lot.

Friend 2: (Tries to stand by leaning on the car) Don’t they salt it at all here?

Friend 1: There’s always a valiant effort, but Nature will not be tamed.

Friend 2: (Still trying to stand) You think you can put down your impulse buys and give me a hand!  (Friend 1 shifts the equipment to one side and starts to clap) Don’t you dare!

Friend 1: (Stops) I couldn’t resist the opening.  (Props the skis and poles up against the car and helps Friend 2 stand) Here, let’s hobble back over to the driver’s side….

Friend 2: I can’t drive like this!

Friend 1: Sure you can; it’s not like the pedals need much pressure; cars practically drive themselves nowadays anyway.

Friend 2: (Stares at Friend 1 as if the latter has two heads) I sprained my ankle: I need an ice pack to keep it from swelling up like a balloon and some bandages to wrap it up, then maybe I can drive myself home.

Friend 1: Oh.  OK, I’ll run up and get some.  (Starts to leave; Friend 2 nearly tips over and grabs onto the car again)

Friend 2: Hold it!

Friend 1: (Turns around) Yep?

Friend 2: I can’t believe I have to ask this: can you help me up to your apartment so I can maybe, I don’t know, lie down while treating my injury?!

Friend 1: Uhhhhhh… you can lie down in the back seat and I’ll bring the stuff to you; no need to exert yourself!  (Turns to leave again)

Friend 2: Halt!  (Friend 1 turns back slowly) I am saying this backed up by decades of friendship: stop being a pill and help me upstairs!

Friend 1: (Cringes, then puts an arm around Friend 2 for support as they both slowly make their way to the building’s elevators) OK, no need to get all weird about it.

Friend 2: Oh hush up.

(At Friend 1’s apartment, the former helps the latter inside, closes the door, and leads the way to the couch in the living room without turning on any lights)

Friend 1: Here we go, right this way, hold on a sec.  (Lets go of Friend 2, who leans against the wall; there are sounds of a number of objects being pushed off the couch and onto the floor)

Friend 2: (Looks around the gloom while taking off coat and gloves) Where’s the light switch in here again?

Friend 1: Huh?  We don’t need it; it’s still daylight out.

Friend 2: Well, it’s twilight in.

Friend 1: Here we go!  (Pushes Friend 2 onto the couch and throws a blanket in the general direction while also taking off coat and gloves) Be right back with ice and bandages!  (Hustles away to the sound of large objects being kicked out of the way)

Friend 2: (Snuggles into the blanket and mutters) Weirdo.

(After a few minutes of sounds of furniture scraping the floor and objects being tossed around in other rooms, Friend 1 returns with an ice pack and bandages)

Friend 1: (Starts to wrap both around Friend 2’s ankle) Lucky these things don’t expire, am-I-right?

Friend 2: (Takes the items out of Friend 1’s hands) I’ll take care of it.  (Holds the ice pack against the ankle, which is propped up on a pillow) You know, this’d be a lot easier if I could actually see what I’m doing.

Friend 1: Hm?  Oh, sure.  (Goes to the wall and lifts the light switch a smidgen) I’ll go make us some tea!  (Dashes to the kitchen and begins banging pots and cabinet doors in there)

Friend 2: (Shakes head and starts measuring out the bandage while icing; this lasts for about a minute before Friend 2 hops off the couch and pushes up the light switch to the max) What the blazes happened here?!  (The entire living room is an indescribable mess)

Friend 1: (Enters, screams, and throws self between Friend 2 and the room) You weren’t supposed to see this!  No one was supposed to see this!

Friend 2: I don’t understand; I just was here, what, a few weeks ago, it was nothing like this – (Gestures at the space in general) disaster!

Friend 1: Three months, OK!

Friend 2: What?

Friend 1: It’s been three months since I’ve had anyone over here; it’s been so cold I’ve barely gone outside unless absolutely necessary; I finally discovered online shopping and I keep ordering, ordering, ORDERING!  (Collapses onto the couch) I wasn’t expecting company today – if I’d known I would’ve shoved it all in the bedroom and welded the door shut.

Friend 2: (Gingerly sits next to Friend 1 and stretches leg out, still holding the ice pack against the ankle) It’s OK; once I can start walking on my ankle all right again, I’ll help you sort all… this.

Friend 1: (Sniffs and nods) I used to think I could never be one of those who ordered this much useless stuff, not in a million years, and yet, here I am, one of them.

Friend 2: Well, to be fair, this place never really was “company-ready” on a good day – there’s just more things to get rid of now.

Friend 1: Thanks, you’re a real pal.

Friend 2: Don’t mention it.

(There is a knock on the front door)

Friend 1: Who in the world?  (Stands and opens the door) Yes?

Technician: Hi, I’m here for your dryer vent cleaning.

Friend 1: Today of all days!  (Slams the door)

Friend 2: Wait a minute, wouldn’t you had to’ve made an appointment for that?

Friend 1: I think the landlord was trying to be helpful and made it for us.  We knew it was coming, but neither the day nor the hour. (Opens the door again to the Technician still standing there) Step only where I do.  (Leads the Technician to the laundry room; sounds of objects being tossed out of the way and heavy machines being staggered-stepped along the floor fill the air for several minutes before Friend 1 returns to sit on the couch) Glad to do my bit for fire prevention.

Friend 2: Uh-huh.  (Lies back on the couch and Friend 1 helps adjust the icing ankle on a pillow) You know, seeing all this – (Points around the room at all the extra accessories and boxes with more accessories waiting inside) the out-of-nowhere ski purchase now makes total sense.

Friend 1: (Eyes widen) The skis!  (Runs out of the apartment and down four flights of stairs back to the car)

Friend2: (Closes eyes as the sounds of dryer vent cleaning combine with the crashes of more boxes falling to the floor) Just one of those friendships that’s comfortable but exhausting.

Story 385: Spring Has Sprung Without Me

(Sibling 2 answers the phone)

Sibling 2: Hey – what’s up?

Sibling 1: Is that the first thing you think of when I call, that something’s wrong?

Sibling 2: Yes: you only call me when something’s wrong, otherwise you just e-mail or text or wait `til we meet in person.

Sibling 1: Oh.  I never realized I was so predictably self-absorbed.

Sibling 2: Don’t trouble yourself – so, what’s up?

Sibling 1: Yeah, so you know how you helped me move into the house about a year ago now?

Sibling 2: Wow, it’s almost a year already?  I feel like we did all that last weekend.

Sibling 1: Don’t get me started on time dilation –

Sibling 2: Don’t worry, I won’t.

Sibling 1: I’m calling because I really haven’t been here all that long, and there’s already a mess.

Sibling 2: Isn’t that just left over from the move?

Sibling 1: That was earlier: this is a whole new mess.  The detritus of life, if you will.

Sibling 2: I’d rather not.

Sibling 1: Well, with the weather finally getting nicer, and Passover and Easter greeting us with the promise of renewal, and Ramadan right around the corner –

Sibling 2: Really?  Seems early this year.

Sibling 1: It can fall on any month of the year since it’s based on a lunar calendar, so there is no “early.”  Anyway, back to me: my brain’s finally registering that it is, at last, spring.

Sibling 2: If you say so – I’m still wearing sweaters every other day.

Sibling 1: And with spring, I feel that I should do the time-honored tradition of… Spring Cleaning.

Sibling 2: AHAHAHAHAHA – oh, you’re serious.  Since when do you do Spring Cleaning?  Or any kind of cleaning, for that matter?

Sibling 1: I clean!  It’s just that the bare minimum I used to get away with at home isn’t going to cut it in my life anymore.

Sibling 2: Welcome to the Wonderful World of Home Ownership.

Sibling 1: Too late, I’ve been there for months.  So, you in?

Sibling 2: On what? You’re taking forever to get to the point.

Sibling 1: Helping me Spring Clean the place on Saturday!

Sibling 2: Arrrrrrrrrrrrrggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhh – what time?

Sibling 1: Preferably before 10, and I’ll order pizza for lunch.

Sibling 2: I’ll be there at 8.

 SATURDAY AT 8

(Sibling 1 opens the front door to Sibling 2)

Sibling 1: What’s all this?

Sibling 2: (Carrying a bulging trash bag) Supplies.  I figured you might need extra cleaners, dusters, sponges, buckets –

Sibling 1: Whoa-whoa-whoa, this is just cleaning, not clean­-ing.

Sibling 2: …I don’t follow.

Sibling 1: Come inside. 

Sibling 2: (Enters as Sibling 1 closes the door behind them, stares at the living  room, and drops the bag) What – ?!  This is the same mess I left you with when you moved in!

Sibling 1: (Chuckles) How unobservant you are.  That was all boxes of old stuff, which were conspicuously absent when you helped me decorate for the holidays in December.  This – (Spreads arms to encompass the room) – is the accumulation of whole new stuff that pretty much all of us fall victim to in this consumerist world.

Sibling 2: Hardly anyone’s living room looks like this!  You even bought an aquarium and don’t have any fish for it!

Sibling 1: It was a deal at a yard sale.

Sibling 2: You’re actually looking around to bring new junk in?!

Sibling 1: You gonna help me Spring Clean it all or what?

Sibling 2: (Sighs and takes off jacket) Yes, but you’re on your own for the actual cleaning that I thought was going to go on today.

Sibling 1: That’s fine; stuff like that’s a once-a-decade project anyway.

 SIX HOURS LATER

Sibling 2: (Stands in the middle of the now-spacious house, hands on hips, satisfactorily surveying the domain) Well, it’s not perfect, but definitely an improvement over the original monstrosity.

Sibling 1: (While eating, hands a slice of pizza on a plate to Sibling 2) Yeah – I can actually walk a straight line through the place now, thanks.

Sibling 2: Just remember to give away some of those clothes in the closet when you change back over to winter – you don’t need that many shirts.  Or pants.  Or Halloween costumes.

Sibling 1: You never know when an emergency sartorial situation may strike.

Sibling 2: Sure.  You got any soda?

Sibling 1: (Thinks while chewing) I believe there’s a can or two.  (Both walk to the kitchen; Sibling 1 opens the refrigerator door and hunts for a can as Sibling 2 stares in horror)

Sibling 2: What – who – where – how did this happen?!

Sibling 1: What, the food?  (Pops the tab and holds out the can)

Sibling 2: The food that’s everywhere!  This fridge was brand new when you moved in, and now it’s covered in stains and crumbs and I-don’t-want-to-know-what-else!

Sibling 1: (Glances casually at the fridge and runs a finger over a sticky shelf) Huh.  Didn’t notice in the day-to-day.  Guess it could use a wipe here and there.

Sibling 2: It could use a power wash!  Don’t you smell all the horrible, horrible odors combining into one giant STENCH?!

Sibling 1: No, but I have a bad sense of smell, you know that.

Sibling 2: (Storms off, grabs the bag of supplies, brings it into the kitchen, drops it onto the floor, pulls on a pair of gloves, and begins taking items out of the refrigerator and dumping them onto the kitchen table) Get some ice coolers if you can find any in that overflowing closet; get some bags of ice if you don’t have any packs in the freezer; and leave me alone for at least an hour!

Sibling 1: (Stares at the activity for a few moments while drinking the soda, then leaves to get the coolers; mutters to self) Doesn’t seem that bad.  If this is what the season’s gonna have every time though, I think I’ll skip spring next year.