LAZING

I don’t want to cast scorn group upon an entire generation, but dang if Gen-Zers ain’t lazy.

 

That’s not me saying it. That’s the mighty New York Times.

 

According to one of their columnists, the latest couple of generations are quite different than our generation of us ‘old folks.’

 

For one thing, they don’t want to work.

 

Oh, they do work but it’s got to be what they want to do with their life so they manage to somehow go home to sleep before they jump back on the treadmill the next day.

 

Can you imagine?

 

Who doesn’t want to leave the house at 7am, work all day putting a round peg into a square hole and come home 10 hours later so exhausted you can’t move?

 

Well, I guess I can appreciate that. Working a normal day and also having time to focus whatever you want? Anywhere else.

 

I would like that. Bet that a lot of people don’t.

 

It’s unamerican, slothful and ungodly to not be chained to your desk all see day. I like the idea working from home. So I’ll let them slide on that one, too

 

But Gen-Z also don’t to do much work even when they are at work. The NYT made up some statistic to go with that statement. Faux news!!

 

If we would let them just drink their skinny lattes at their desks and post a bunch of selfies for a couple of hours, then they could go home and finish their work while sitting on their beanbag with Ed Sheeran singing all his hits on your Bluetooth speaker.

 

Now why us old folks in the office being glared at all day by people want to that? We all got up this morning and WENT to work like good citizens do.

 

Because this is what Americans do

 

You know, now that you mention it, I do kind of think it would be fun not to have to fight traffic every morning and afternoon. and sit in a cubicle all day. It would be nice working at my deak at home.

 

So I’ll give then that one, too.

 

But here’s the kicker… the down right laziness.. the sloth… .. you know, I like the idea of working from home people don’t want me to be happy!

 

Unlike my generations or even my own children’s’ generation who were always going somewhere- soccer practice, dance rebuttal, band, football

games- nope, Gen-Zers just stay at home.

 

I heard about this odd practice while listening to some that news on NPR. (The earth is round? balderdash!)

 

The velvet tongue reporter said that when GenZ workers go home, they put on pajamas and stay in their beds with their dogs. All evening!

 

I scoffed when I heard that. Yes, actually scoffed. Go look it up.

 

There’s a great big world out there full of excitement and adventure. Who wants to just in the house all day?

 

Well, this weekend, I learned who. Me. That’s who.

 

As most of my gentle readers know, I still need to get a hernia operation but my health insurance people are like, ‘no way, just die already!’

 

Their refusal to pay for a hernia surgery might not have had those exact words on the denial I got, but that’s what they meant.

 

And because of that, I have been fighting the pain and crossing my fingers until the first of the year, or it is deemed emergency.

 

Heck, if that happens, they have to do it whether my insurance pays or not. Pbbbtz!

 

Well, my wish came true over the weekend. I started having a little hernia pain a couple weeks ago. It got worse when I single-handedly lifted a 500-lb beam over my head to nail it to a swing set. It might have been 700 lbs.

 

After that show of incredible strength, I felt a little in pain in my side.

 

Uh, oh! I thought. I’ve broken something.

 

The pain steadily got worse and by Thursday night I had all I cpuld stomach, (get it?) and told my beautiful bride that I needed to go to the hospital and get me my free government operation. I would whip in and out and be home before dark to catch the next episode of Fallout.

 

But hold on there, speedy boy- they had different ideas

We got there about 5:15pm. Let the lady at the front desk know that his will probably be my last time ever seeing sunshine unless I could get into an operation. And I mean stat!

 

They say that do at all emergency rooms around the world, and people jump. Not here. She pointed me to the waiting room.

 

Those fancy waiting room chairs were expensive. We are going to make people sit in them for multiple hours so we can get our money’s worth.

 

The lady said not to eat in drink anything and wait my turn.

She didn’t tell my wife not to eat or drink. She did. Two candy bars right in front of me! Heartless!

 

After a little over fours, they called us back and put us in one of the ER cubicles. Then we waited there for the nurse and doctor to appear which took another hour.

 

The doc pulled down my pants and dug his fingers down in my cabbage patch for a good ten minutes.

 

I hope the guy has some good soap because he, prodded and pulled on everything down there.

 

Finally he sat me up and announced, “you have bilateral hernia.”

 

“What did you say? Baptist hernias?”

 

‘No, bilateral. It means one on each side.”

 

He stuck his hand back down into the Black Forest.

 

“One there..”

 

“Ow!!!”

 

And one right over here.”

 

“Whoa Nelly!”

 

My wife perked up. She has been wanting my to get these hernias fixed and here was her chance.

 

“How soon can you book him in Surgical Suite? Tonight? You know what they say, you cannot escape the responsibility of tomorrow by evading it today.

 

Abraham Lincoln said that. You know, the president.”

 

She beamed like a kid in Sunday School who had recited all 66 books from the Bible from memory.

 

The doctor backed up a bit, wanting to escape the ‘spit zone’ of me and this crazy woman.

 

“I am sorry, ma’am, but that is an outpatient procedure and you’ll have to make arrangements with the surgeon’s office.”

 

My wife was unfettered. She gave me a little shove towards the doc and told him much pain I was in. I’m mean, it’s obvious in his haggard face!

 

The doc said he understood but that was the way they did it. Which was code for ‘somebody keep Security on standby.’

 

He said that instead of surgery, he would give me a special massage designed to make the hernia smaller.

 

I have never had a massage in that particular area and things grew smaller but I agreed. Go to it, Dr. Handsy!

 

Long story sort- the fine young doc was able to push all my innards back in their various holes, and I rather enjoyed the procedure.

 

“We’re going to give you some pain medicine and when that kicks in, we’ll send you home,” the doc said.

 

My wife just scowled.

 

So how does all that hospital stuff have anything to do with the ‘leissa-fare’ attitude of Gen Z-ers.

 

My doc told me to go home and not do anything for three days. Just like those Gen-Zers

 

That’s what they do. Basically nothing.

 

I didn’t think I could do nothing for the whole weekend. I was wrong.

 

I have laid on this couch for the last three days. The weekend is not officially over until Monday and I am not moving until then.

 

Gen-Z doesn’t like working in dead end jobs. They like working from home.

 

They like to go home and hibernate.

 

Guess what? Turns out I’m a Gen-Z, too.

 

Hey, FOMO!