by Kevin Burton
Not today, baby. Nope.
Not feelin’ it.
Yes the clock is tick-tick-ticking just like on 60 Minutes. Yes, I hear it.
The winds of progress are whipping as usual, making the pages of my calendar flutter seductively.
“Got to get a move on,” both clock and calendar say. They always say that. That’s all they ever have to say.
And I am caught up in all that, usually. That’s annoying.
So, this next bit I want to make perfectly clear, as Richard Nixon used to say, only I will be telling the truth.
Today, I am opting out, all the way out.
That to-do list that just feel on the floor, can stay there.
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, you have caught me at just the right time. Behold it if you will, in all its splendor: This….is my plan of inaction.
The best part? It’s not even a plan really, more of a shrug.
I will not be meeting expectations today. I will not be fulfilling quotas. In fact, I’m not even going to acknowledge them. I do hope the known universe will not be too disquieted.
So you can take all the quotes you can find from Teddy Roosevelt about taking action, or from John F. Kennedy about vigor, and stuff them into whatever place you may deem most convenient.
Or you may want to make those sayings into wall hangings and stuff said wall hangings as appropriate.
Whatever you do, don’t bother me with it. I am out. I am already moved on.
Here is something from Facebook. Since it’s perfectly aligned with my plan, I’m adopting it:
“Think about it: every single corpse on Mt Everest was once a highly motivated person. Stay lazy my friends.”
My friend Alice posted that. A wise woman indeed. Bet you five dollars she has a plan of inaction too.
If tomorrow is pregnant with possibilities, as it very well may be, it isn’t because of any seeds I planted today.
Assemble the crickets please, for the soundtrack to my glorious plan of inaction. Get it? Crickets? Nothing’s going on.
What a day for a daydream you say John Sebastian, Lovin Spoonful? Too much trouble. Count me out.
A proper daydream is sublime of course and there’s no question that Sebastian’s heart is in the right place. But a daydream that goes off the rails has a good shot of turning into planning. So I’m avoiding it. You have to see that for what it is and nip it in the bud.
I once had an editor – I promise you I am not making this up, I am not that good at fiction – who when our publishing deadline was near in the late morning, would sometimes sit in her office with the phone up to her ear, pretending to be on the phone so nobody would ask her to do anything, to make any decisions.
That was lame then and it’s lame now.
My plan of inaction makes no bones about it. There is no stuttering, no apologies. I’m not busy, I’m not fake-busy, I’m just not having it, not now.
There are other doors to knock on, find one.
“Scram!” said Oscar the Grouch. Remember that? That seems to fit here, except I’m really not grouchy just now. I am idle and matter-of-fact about it.
Every electronic device I have ever owned has had an off switch. It’s my favorite feature. It’s the one mode I absolutely need to work when I switch to it.
Turns out I have an off switch too.
So you get the point by now. I’m rambling a little. I won’t keep you. It’s just that I….I mean who needs all the….”
“Huh? What?”
OK, that was Jeannette, my wife, calling me. I’m ‘bout to get up from here and tell her about the way things work, or don’t work as the case…..may….”
“What? Yes,..yes dear…of course, right away…no problem….I was just…finishing….my story.”
Well that’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.
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