I actually had to have this discussion last night. Because I have no fucking clue.
Wearing insanely expensive light-colored silk pants to run errands doesn't count for anything. (Not in relation to this issue, anyway.)
Taking time to go get my Ray-Bans readjusted because they've been pinching my nose since the crash? Nope, doesn't count.
Reading my friends' blogs counts, as long as I'm not also working and/or chatting while I'm on teh internetz. OK, that's a start.
Watching my shows on the dvr doesn't seem to count.
Naps? Naps count, which is good. Because I like naps.
Reading counts. I love to read; I just don't know when I'll find time to go get books.
Shopping counts, as long as it is shopping for frivolous things rather than shopping for things I need.
So here I am, making a very conscious effort to just sit still and do nothing.
I can't fucking do it, y'all. There's stuffed animal guts in the floor. There are clothes needing to be ironed, and before 5am tomorrow. Dirty dishes in the sink. Trash can overflowing. Black tank needs to be washed (which really just involves filling it with clean water and then dumping, WITHOUT LETTING IT OVERFLOW). Sunshine requested I remove the electric blanket from the bed, which involves cleaning out the storage area UNDER the bed so that there is room for the blanket under there. Let's not talk about the state of the interior of my car. Or the dust on the furniture. Or the filing that needs to be done for Sunshine's company. Which reminds me, I have got to balance his checkbook.
So much for sitting in the floor. That checkbook takes priority. Shit.