A Thing I'm Supposed to Like but Don't

My roommate and her fiance are often up and out of the house on Saturdays before I even get out of bed. For the record, I'm often awake for hours before I get out of bed. I like to lie there, daydream, read, check Facebook. I might grab some breakfast and take it back to bed so I can eat it there. But I'm in bed, or at least on it. I'm lying on my bed right now.

I think they go hiking. Or to the Boston Harbor Islands. Or somewhere outdoors where they can take her dog.

I hate hiking. The thought of getting myself up early on a Saturday morning to do it is unpleasant. Hiking is so effortful. Synonyms: Trudging, slogging, death-marching. Why go to the woods just so you can walk through them so quickly and with imaginary purpose that you have to spend all your time looking at your feet to avoid tripping? I'd rather stroll. I'll stroll anywhere. Or mosey. Or amble. Or -- Oooo! -- meander.

I'll happily walk for miles, as long as we're not in a hurry.

And as long as you don't try to drag me out of bed early to do it, as if it's my job. I have a job, and I don't like that, either.