By Adam Martin

I'M NOT NORMALLY this lazy. OK, that's a lie. It's been weeks since I slept in my bed, which is too far away from the couch. I do go to work, though, and school, and take showers, and spend the better part of the day sober. But for some reason I can't wait for those long summer days to roll around, just so I can relish the task of wasting the hell out of them. Let me sit on the roof all day drinking beer and throwing rocks into an empty can and I'm in heaven. Even when my bank account reads $7.86, I'll happily ditch two days of work in a row just to perfect a mix tape.

What is it about the season that makes me so slothful? I don't know – maybe it's a holdover from grade school's three-month summer drift. Whatever the reason, the temptation to call in sick, holding my nose and rasping, "I cad't bake it id" – before heading to a matinee with a bag of mini Snickers – is simply stronger in July.

And the matinee movie is the undisputed king of wasting summertime. The blockbusters come out to play, the air-conditioning turns on, the Milk Duds taste better, and the sights and sounds of exploding cars and angry mutant superheroes turn the dark theater into a treat for the senses. Even if you don't sneak in, you can stay true to the spirit of the exercise by smuggling in your own candy and a beer – and staying for two shows, naturally. Or you could just head over to the Grand Lake Theater (3200 Grand, Oakl. (510) 452-3556) for a matinee price that feels like a steal – $5.50 gets you a talkie in one of the Bay Area's classic, circa-1920s theaters. With the savings, you can treat yourself to a tiny burger and freshly cut fries at Quickway Burgers (500 Lake Park Ave., Oakl. (510) 444-9413) around the corner on Lakeshore.

That's all child's play, though. I mean, we wasted time like that in elementary school and barely needed our friend's delinquent older brother to tell us how. What you've got to do is go to a bar. Drinking alone make you feel uncomfortable? Make the work-ditch a group effort. Some folks I know get together annually for Brick Day, when they all call in sick and go on a massive pub crawl, carrying with them the eponymous brick, ceremoniously placed on the counter of each bar they visit. Whatever the number of your party, though, get ambitious about your laziness. Don't just watch the sunlight travel across the carpet of your local dive. Take a tour of your local beer gardens (my personal favorites are the Eagle and the Mallard) and get a good buzz going before 2 p.m. Why? Why not? It's not that coming onto a hangover at four in the afternoon is all that pleasant, but it's one of those things, like an enema or watching an entire season of Change of Heart, that has to be experienced sooner or later, if only to be able to identify the hurt. Also, drinking during the day reeks of power lunches or society matrons, so you can play "executive" or "high tea" in between the Bloody Marys and the beers.

Your next sick day this summer absolutely must be a Wednesday at Oakland Coliseum (7000 Coliseum Way, Oakl. (510) 569-2121). Wednesday is dollar day, and the best baseball you'll ever see, because you can watch it over the rim of a 10-pack of dollar hot dogs. There's nothing quite like the feeling of bellying up to the counter and ordering 10 hot dogs, knowing you're there alone. Honestly, you can get a game and lunch for under $5: a deal rarer in this world than a career Oakland Athletic. Pac Bell Park might have a view of the water, and that big spooky glove creeping out of the bleachers, and Barry Bonds, but the Coliseum really is a lot better. You can BART there, for one, and walk right in from the station. The fans themselves are as much an attraction as the game, with the drummers and the wacky banjo guy with the green-and-yellow cape and propeller beanie. Good job, San Francisco: your ballpark is nicer. A person could take a date there. But when blowing off work, catch a Wednesday daytime game in Oakland and gorge on hot dogs atop Mount Nosebleed. The only drawback: Wednesday daytime games take place only a few times a season; plan ahead and start displaying symptoms on Monday.

Ironically, some of the best work-ditching fun can be had by ditching the sunlight that made you want to ditch work in the first place. If the balmy weather that beckons you away from the office becomes too much to bear, try the masochistic pleasure of blinking against the daylight after five hours of dim electric bulbs hanging from the ceiling of a pool hall, or possibly an arcade. You can combine pool hall and beer garden at Thallasa (2367 Shattuck, Berk. (510) 848-1766), whose patio houses 22 pool tables. Crowded on Friday and Saturday nights, the place is pretty dead on weekdays, allowing you hours of uninterrupted shots. Or, if you want to recapture that feeling of skipped classes from your lost youth, try the Amusement Center (447 Broadway, S.F. (415) 398-8858). This classic arcade has all of the best new video games as well as pinball, Donkey Kong, and my personal favorite, Rampage, wherein you adopt an animal identity and go around smashing the city and eating as many people as you can before the National Guard gets you. Pretend those little pink snacks are your boss and you can pump quarters into this game for hours.

Even after you've hit up the movies, gotten drunk, smashed buildings, played pool, and consumed more pork by-product than anyone should even ponder, you've only ditched three or four days. It's time to get creative. Swim at Aquatic Park at lunchtime. Challenge a friend to a salsa-drinking contest. Take a day off to sample the bacon dogs on Mission Street. Just make sure you feel like you're on vacation this summer. Those long afternoons of dumb stuff will make for healing memories to help you through the winter flu, because face it: you've used up all your sick days at the damned arcade.

Summer plans