Devoid of any real content
One, two, three. Is this thing on?
It’s been rainy and dreary all day. I’m loving The Polar Vortex in July.
I did nothing today. I would say “absolutely nothing” except I installed a new roll of paper towel in the kitchen.
I gave myself permission early on to do nothing today. Generally, when I do this, I get all sorts of things done. I’m just perverse that way.
But not today. I have been the very definition of a couch potato. I read a little. I slept a little. I stalked folks on Facebook. I danced with the dog. I ate comfort food (and didn’t clean the kitchen). I drank two pots of coffee. I have been worthless.
I think there’s something to be said for taking a day off now and again. My life has been such that there’s been no end of things needing to be done for decades. Periodically, I do sit around and do nothing, but I feel antsy and guilty and jittery about it. Not today.
Today I wallowed in my inertia. Savored it. Provided a background of Mozart and a scented coconut candle to enhance it. I’m still in my pajamas at a quarter to eight. I haven’t brushed my hair or made the bed. I have done nothing save unwrap a roll of paper towel and hang it on the wall.
My body is pulsing with endorphins of goodness. I am blissfully happy with my no good self. I hope your Saturday was just as rewarding.