When I was a kid, my Uncle Jerry used to show up at family gatherings with a six-pack of beer and a bottle of whiskey. He never went home with them. This is why Uncle Jerry was the hit of the party for the first part of it and a pain in the aspidistra for the second half. Jerry played guitar and wore Hawaiian shirts and had a hula girl doll on his dashboard. He was sexist and offensive, but he did have one redeeming feature. He could do a fantastic Jackie Gleason impression. Sometimes, when the six-pack had turned into a three-pack and the whiskey level in his glass was higher than the level in the whiskey bottle; he was more like Jackie than Jackie was.
One of his favorite shticks was also something he said even when he wasn't channeling The Great One. "I have a condition," he'd say when someone asked him why he didn't mow the lawn or take out the trash or change a flat tire. The questioner would nod his head and look solemn while my Aunt Mildred glared daggers at Uncle Jerry because she didn't have a condition, so she was the one who had to do all the things Uncle Jerry neglected.
Uncle Jerry is gone now, a victim of his "condition" and the millions of cigarettes he smoked while sipping his highballs, but I still think of him whenever I listen to Hawaiian steel guitar music or see a hula girl figurine on a dashboard. I got to ruminating about Uncle J the other day, when I just didn't feel like getting up and leaving the deck, where I was having a very light beer, to take the clothes out of the dryer. I had actually started to get out of my chair to do it when Daughter appeared and told me that the dryer had stopped.
I started to say that I'd fold the clothes, but then I stopped myself and asked her if she'd mind doing it. She was in the middle of a Redwall book and obviously not crazy about breaking off to handle laundry, but she sighed and slouched off to fight the good fight with fitted sheets.
"That's wicked nice of you, Sweetie," I called to her as she left. "You know I don't usually mind doing it, but what with my condition and all ..." and I stopped there.
So I stayed out on the deck, had a second light beer (my limit nowadays and they have so little alcohol that they're labeled "Near Beer" in TX and mouthwash in some counties in Maine), and thought about Uncle Jerry. You might want to try his ploy whenever someone asks you to do something you really don't want to do. No one under the age of sixty remembers Jackie Gleason anymore, so you'll probably be able to get away with it. And, let's face it; we all have conditions that make us want to do what we want to do, rather than what needs to be done. (I believe that's known as the human condition.)
So, if you can find someone else to do it, it still gets done and you get to sit on the deck and have another beer or a highball or a double latte with extra froth or whatever your particular "condition" calls for. If anyone questions you too closely about what your condition is, tell them that it's one of those conditions that you just have to live with and ask them if they'd like to donate to finding a cure for it. They'll change the subject and you can get back to loafing.