I’m a firm believer in not having to do DIY. Gardening also looms large on my list of things to avoid, as the weekend approaches. I work a lot of hours during the week. Some weeks I have to get out of bed in the middle of the night and work unexpectedly. That’s an odd state of affairs I seem to have got myself involved in. Surprise working. It’s like musical chairs. You can can relax, have fun be happy do what you like, then the phone rings and you have to work for a indeterminate period.
I digress. I don’t want to work all week, and then come home and have to work in some other fashion, thereby denying myself my human rights to have fun and fall asleep indiscriminately . Or to leap out of chair and be ridiculous, without fear of ridicule. These things I should be able to do. Not shuffle about with lawnmowers and drills, trying to make that dry patch a little wetter, or that crooked thing a little straighter. That sort of thing is for the middle aged men that I work with. Not the middle aged men who is me.
Obviously there’s a price to paid for all this. Your house falls into a terrible state of disrepair, and you your wife complains at you for being the good for nothing low-life lazy scumbag her mother told her you were.
Luckily, these problems are easily solveable for the slacker. No-one can see the terrible state of repair of my house, because the terrible overgrown garden is in the way, and I’ve never married.