My lazy other half

If someone was to take a cake knife and slice through me in exactly two halves, lengthwise she would see an obvious difference. A hardworking right half and a lazy left half. No it’s true. My left half is incredibly lazy, so much so that I’m right brained. Every cell in the right side does more than its fair share of work. The muscles work, the brain works hard enough so that I can earn a living but my left half just coasts along. Imagine this scenario, I’m trying to get something down from the kitchen shelf. It’s quite a stretch and things could be done beautifully with my left hand but no, somewhere along the way it just refuses to cooperate and the ever-dependent right hand comes to the rescue.

I mentioned this to a friend one evening over stale peanuts and tepid beer. The conversation went like this –

Me – this beer sucks

Friend – why? Seems okay to me. Oh you mean, it’s warm that’s why?

Me (with little interest in continuing the conversation) – why is my left hand not holding this glass?

Friend – seriously? You don’t know?

Me – no really. My left hand refuses to take any responsibility. If I use it to hold this glass after sometime it forces me to switch to the right side.

Friend (looking at me strangely) –  is that just beer you’re having? Have the peanuts become radioactive?

Me (continuing as if there was no interruption) – and then if I want it to do other stuff then it just gives up mid-point. These days I force it to hold the grocery shopping bags even though it hates to…

Friend – you know what, I just realized that I’m supposed to meet someone. Have to run. See you later. We must talk more about …

These days I spend my time trying to coax my left hand to take more responsibility. It’s a steady, uphill climb. Not sure if I’ll get there. Occasionally just when I think of giving up my right hand rebels with a spasm and then I don’t.