Is it bad that I love to spend my Saturdays sitting on my couch doing nothing?
Actually, I suppose that I didn't really do nothing yesterday. I got up, I went to Target (love love love Target), I took my Christmas stuff down, and I strolled around Somerset for a while. But if that sounds like a couple hours worth of stuff, you're right. I just couldn't muster up the desire to grade papers. I meant to go to the gym, but it just never happened.
So should I feel guilty that watching Ghostbusters on VH1 (and who hasn't seen that seventeen bazillion times?) was one of the high points of my day? All the books I've read about living life to its fullest say that such days are time-wasters...and I don't think I can manage to care! :)
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