a state of physical or mental weariness
lack of energy
My Cousin Harry lived in a constant state of lassitude.
His mum my Aunt Mary was always on Harry’s back about one thing or another.
All the while Harry would be lying on the lounge watching some mindless television program.
Harry had been a professional footballer in his day and from all accounts he was a good player and represented the country in six games during the 1970’s.
But an injury was his excuse. He’d hurt his back, which left him in a lot of pain, and being the man he was, he milked his injury for all the sympathy he could generate.
Aunt Mary always knew her son was resting on his past, his achievements and that fact that he had a doctors certificate to say he was unfit for work.
By the time I knew Harry he had settled well and truly into a life of perpetual lassitude where even a visit to the toilet was like a major excursion as he’d struggle to lift his ever growing frame out of the lounge and then painfully take a step at a time on his way to relieving his most basic of needs.
Whenever there were visitors Harry seemed to be worse than the time before. This of course evoked considerable cries of sympathy from those present but Aunt Mary would always roll her eyes and say: ‘Here he goes again…’Don’t humour him it only makes him worse and I’ve got enough to do at present…’
So we would all be witness to Harry’s exertions going to the toilet and then again as he hobbled back to his place on the lounge. This was what we all saw but one day I went round unannounced to Aunt Mary’s and saw Harry in the backyard lifting the big blocks of wood Aunty had to cut up for the fuel stove. I stood outside the fence and stared in at him as he pressed a number of blocks before taking up a skipping rope and going through a routine he obviously went through often as he looked fitter than at anytime previously.
There was a look of horror on his face when he turned and saw me standing at the back gate.
I grinned widely at him, knowing I had caught him out.
Harry looked at me and asked me not to tell his mother, as it would break her heart to know he had been fudging all these years.
My lips have been sealed ever since, my pocket a little fuller as Harry and I decided that as of that day we would institute a lassitudinous fund to assist all future possible career paths.