I don't do anything, ever (and I like it)

For the most part, my weeks and weeks of winter break do not consist of meeting up with old friends or working obscene holiday hours at my holiday-only job. They go like this instead: wake up. eat some breakfast and munch on Christmas cookies. maybe go running, but I probably do not. then I eat some more Christmas cookies. organize the books on shelf in my room, and decide which ones I want to get rid of trade into the used bookstore, so I can get more books. kick back on the couch, and read a little bit, which will attract all sorts of animals who also live here, because who doesn't like to lie on the couch, but that means I will have to break up interactions between Libby the cat and Addie the dog, because Addie the dog likes Libby the cat, but Libby the cat is scared of Addie the dog and will start sneezing uncontrollably if the dog gets too close. By this time, I am hungry again so I will heat up some soup and chow down on Christmas cookies as the soup warms. Then I will putz around in my room a little bit more and throw out things I have for some reason saved much longer than necessary, like dried up markers or pay stubs from jobs I haven't had for three years. I will next eat some Christmas cookies and work on a puzzle for a bit, while listening to NPR Iowa caucus coverage. I may or may not eat dinner, probably not because I am full after all the Christmas cookies. Then I will read and go to bed.

Did you read all that? Why? Regardless, the point I wanted to make here is that I am not bored, and I am rather enjoying myself. I have seen some friends, I have been drunk once or twice, I'm not a total loser. But I just wanted to say that doing nothing is underrated, and I am here to bring it back.