I am almost too good at "doing" nothing -- to the point where the guilt feelings that accompany it are a bit overwhelming. I was raised in house where it wasn't unusual to "do" nothing. My mother always jokes that she is going to open a business that involves teaching people how to sit around in their pajamas, drinking tea, and not doing much of anything at all. We were all very good at just "hanging out." I was never bored on summer vacations. I never yearned to get back to school simply so that I could get out of the house. I loved the idea of endless days of nothingness.
Of course it is different now. I am an adult and do in fact have many things that I must *do*. However, so far this week I have never made it out of my PJs before noon, and I'm always starting my second cup of tea around 10:30 or 11. It is with that second cup of tea that I sit down and write, so that I am at least doing "something."
After I hit "publish," I'll probably head back to my oversized, comfy chair in the living room and continue on with nothing in particular.
My mother would be proud!