So there are two types of people in this world – the doers and the slackers. Sorry to disappoint the people expecting a little more philosophical basis for such generalization. But think about it, most of our generation is brimming with us slackers (and thus yours truly has given into not rejecting reality), we don’t give a shit, we don’t care about image, we don’t care about “things”, those “things” will come to us anyway, and we don’t want to do any of those “things” that even marginally border on taking an iota of responsibility. And hence we end up doing, and I say this in no less measure, a lot of nothing.
Therein starts theÂ dilemma, what do slackers do when they are given a choice of adopting a cat or a dog. On one end, they like it when other beings (lets just say dogs for now) lick their face and shower them with sloppy kisses for doing next to nothing. On the flip side, they hate it when they are burdened with even aÂ meagerÂ chore that they can’t write-off (say walking a dog every twice a day).
Someone once said, ‘with great powerlessness comes great irresponsibility’. Â Not exactly, but what’s to stop me from assuming a double negative is not as true as a single positive. And with that powerlessness bestowed on me, I am but unequivocally inclined to say that I would prefer a cat for it embodies everything I stand for. For one, cats don’t give a shit; and while however much the rest of the world wants to marginalize such an attitude, that is eventually the holy grail of “slackerism”. With just that one shell in my shotgun, I embarked on a six-month propaganda mission to convince my “doer” wife why cats are best for the both of us. Not because I don’t like dogs, but because the slacker in me won’t allow me to be any less irresponsible than I already am. But then, by volunteering to clear the litter, I have already killed a little bit of that slacker in me. The things I have to do. If only logic had a part in them.