I Can’t be Buggered

I could go for a walk but I can’t be buggered.

I could check my Facebook status but I can’t be buggered.

I could cut back the bush near the letter box so the postie can chuff past more easily on his motor scooter.

But I can’t be buggered.

I could put more effort in getting my next manuscript together — the editor is interested — but I can’t be buggered doing that either.

I almost can’t be buggered writing this poem about not being buggered.

Would rather curl up in the sun out the back with a good crime novel and lose myself in the plot.