Lazy LadyIt seems like the lazier people are, the more I can't stand them. One thing is certain; I can't stand my mother. “Maxme or MOM” is how I would address her, or should I say I should address her. I would have preferred boss or master. Yes sir, she is the queen of all. He could probably write a book called What it Takes to be Lazy. In her case, I guess you could consider it a lifestyle, but try not to compare her to Martha Stewart or anyone like that. My mother is lazy from the hair on her head to her toes. Let me give you a little insight into this lazy, lazy, lazy woman. An average weekday morning for her normally consists of getting up to go to work. It's true that not many people in today's society aren't early risers, but presumably she's supposed to be at work by 8:00, but she doesn't get out of bed until 7:30. It seems to be a routine for her not to go to bed before 1am, doing nothing out of the ordinary except hanging around the television surrounded by junk food. I think this is why she didn't wake up on time. I wait and wait for what seems like hours as the clock ticks until she is ready to go. Every day she makes the same excuse that she is too scared to drive. She's had her license for about twelve years, I've only had one, and yet she still asks me to drive her to work. When you compare our experience behind the wheel, I should be the one shaking in my pants. Because of his laziness, I end up being late for work or school every day. When she arrives at work, Mom takes her time getting to her desk, about as fast as a snail could cross a sidewalk. She doesn't do much at work, or if you can call it work, considering she's so damn lazy. He definitely loves calling relatives every day. He chats with them for hours, well aware that he is at work. He basically talks longer on the phone at work than at home. Surprisingly, none of his colleagues seem to care.
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