Aside from some notable exceptions, I would quite happily testify to being the laziest person I know.
Why walk into town when there is a perfectly serviceable bus willing to take me? Why bothering putting on clothes when I have no plans to leave my house today?
And yet, I get restless for adventure. Nothing too ostentatious mind. I’m too lazy (and poor) to be adventuring across the globe. But small and manageable adventures like trips to the seaside or a mouldering old National Trust manor house. Finding reasons to visit friends in far-flung corners of the country. I go through periods of cramming my upcoming weekends and months full of these treats, only to find myself with no spare time just to do what I do best. Being a lazy cow.
I’ve got my adventure hat on right now and it’s making my brain dizzy with excitement.
Frustratingly, it does mean I can barely concentrate on anything else until my train/gig/plane tickets are bought or my hotel booked. Today’s brain fog is being caused by Mel’s 21st Birthday Adventure. I won’t write any more about it, for fear of plans collapsing, but I’m pretty sure it will be magical.