And there are days when I sleep like a python. I hibernate. I watch TV. I dream. I look deep into the clouds, lying on my balcony floor, finding shapes it forms. I listen to music from the 90s and travel back in time to visit a version of me long gone. A version that was young and inexperienced. A version with a lot of energy and ambition. A version that did not know what it meant to fail or feel afraid. A version that I still find endearing. A version I see in my children.

And lazy days are when I feel pampered. Days when I relax, no questions asked. And as long as it is one lazy day after many moons, I would call it restful. But if this lazy starts daily with the rising sun, I would certainly call it unproductive.

A lazy day is the real Sunday in life. Meant to pull you back believe propelling you forward.