Do you know, it seems that I have forgotten how to do nothing. Not just forgotten, I'm almost in fear of doing nothing. Or of doing very little. Kicking back and focusing on something simple, relaxing, or even simply sitting and thinking, or perhaps not even thinking at all. I can't remember how to do any of those things anymore. Or if I find myself with time to just be, I worry that I should be busier or ticking off one of the many things on my to-do list, even though the deadlines are mostly self-imposed. How strange?! When did I lose of the art of being a little bit lazy? I was once able to spend hours doing nothing more than musing over the identity of Gossip Girl and conducting a mini-debate as to whether my imaginary New York crash pad should be on the Upper East or Upper West Side. I'm definitely not cool enough for the Meat Packing District but would want to be overlooking Central Park, anyway. Which would you choose? It's a tough one, isn't it?!