A splendidly spectacularly lazy day spent doing nothing, unless falling asleep three times on a sofa counts as some kind of activity. Oh, and I read a couple of magazines - Philosophy Now and the New York Review of Books - and finished Paul Muldoon's collection Maggot (which I've been reading since December of last year, at one point thinking I would finish it in Melbourne.)
I could get used to this kind of life.
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