That would be my response to every request, small and large, if I could get away with it. Not that I wouldn't do some things soon, or even immediately, and with pleasure, or at least a proper sense of responsibility. It's just that I don't like to feel cornered by a too-hasty assent. Why jump to say yes? I don't need to keep all my options open, just the single option of doing nothing. To assert my right to do nothing is to do something. There's nothing I love doing more than doing nothing. Doing nothing isn't all languor and sloth, there can be a certain rigor to doing nothing, a certain admirable severity. The expert observer can distinguish passive indolence from active inactivity, the steely unwillingness to cause even the tiniest ripple in the surface of events. To do absolutely nothing well takes practice and experience. There's sometimes too much going on and I don't want to add to the general tumult. Of course it's all subjective. I once stormed into a room where one person was sitting quietly knitting and demanded to know what all the commotion was about. I've yelled to some kids walking by my house to please keep it down, I'm trying to smoke a cigarette.

Sometimes I just don't want to decide. Deciding makes my brain hum. A knee-jerk deferral can be a beautiful thing, like an ice skater spinning in place until he is nothing but a blur of sequins. I like to tell people that it sounds like fun and that I'll certainly think about it. Sometimes I'll indefinitely postpone deciding whether or not to defer, and then after a quick nap I will have forgotten the whole affair.