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I have to admit to having become very lazy over the last few months, but over the last few weeks especially. It's been delightful, or would be if I didn't suffer from Protestant Guilt (I should be working! Why am I not working?). I've cross stitched and read (nearly fifteen books this year so far, which I think might be a record since my twenties), and watched documentaries, and had brunch (only the once, this morning, but it was delightful and deserves a mention). My house is a tip (well, parts are, because I have a natural tendency toward cleanliness that I picked up I know now from whence because certainly all my family, even the bits I don't talk to, tend toward hoarding). I've given up cooking almost completely--we have soup and sandwiches and eggs, when one of us can be bothered, or cereal. Lots of fruit and cocoa, because that's delightful, too.

The guilt ruins it all slightly (though only slightly, not enough to make me change, it appears) and I've even called it being "lazy" above. Why do I feel like I need to do more, do you think? I have no one to please but myself, so why is it being lazy? Because it feels like being lazy. I suspect it's because I'm a woman and so I've been conditioned to think I have to be Doing and Managing and Keeping House, and whiling away a perfect good Sunday doing nothing but things that give me pleasure must be wrong in an inherent sort of way. Things are getting done (I mean, the Things That Must Be Done Eventually By Someone)--I've paid my bills for the month, my kitchen isn't literally a cesspit, the garbage can is on the curb, the litter boxes are relatively clean. I should have vacuumed maybe. The new blind (one broke) and air filter are bought but not actually installed. That could have been done today, I suppose. What I need to do is banish guilt though. It's a mostly useless emotion, right? Unless I've actually done something bad to hurt someone else, and I don't think my floors being a bit bad is doing that.

I don't want to go back to cooking, though. All that work for a twenty minute meal? When I do, it's because I have a taste for something, like beef stew or spaghetti.

Anyway, I'm not being lazy tonight. I'm enjoying myself tonight because tomorrow it's back to work where not doing anything all day (or at least only things that bring me pleasure) should leave me riddled with guilt :D Tonight I'm leaning toward chicken noodle soup (from a can!), a thick slice of bread and butter with orange marmalade (I've bought the lovely expensive stuff as a treat because my grocery bill has been slashed drastically since I don't buy meat anymore), an orange, and a cup of cocoa. More cross stitching. More reading. More of the ridiculous Chuck (it's not all documentaries).

Anyway, after my weird spiral of anxiety / sadness / terror that was Friday night, I took myself out of the house on Saturday for some tiny shopping and errand running, and perspective returned (for the most part). I bought myself a tiny blue porcelain bird and a loaf of rye bread. I started reading Longbourn by Jo Baker, professional (and exceptionally well written) Pride and Prejudice fanfiction :D about the lives of the Bennet's servants. I quite like it though I suspect awful things are going to happen at some point and I'm not going to like it as much anymore.
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