from the Wall Street Journal:

The longest stretch of productivity declines since the end of the 1970s is threatening to restrain U.S. worker pay and broader economic growth in the years ahead.

I know I’m not productive; I’m as guilty as can be.

No couch potato snoozing ever had it over me.

I awaken when I want to; my alarm clock is defunct.

If ambition is a teacher, then I’ve already been flunked.

I sit in my recliner, reading paperbacks galore.

And if there is a rumpus it is just because I snore.

I glance at social media, but never have produced

any content worthy of a Shakespeare or a Proust.

I do not work when I can play, and do not play when I

can lay in comatose delight to get some more shuteye.

And yet I don’t feel guilty that my slothfulness will mean

that soon the roadways will be sprouting grass so very green.

I find that aspirations and hard work don’t prolong life;

if I need have something done I call upon my wife . . . 

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I don't want to be loved; I just want to be trending.