Procrastinatory

I have cooked myself a meal, showered, cleaned my room, taken out the trash, payed my bills, dicked around, professionally, on the Internet, and fed and played with my cat in the last few hours since I finished with work. What in God's name possessed me to spend my precious leisure time in such a tedious way, I have very little idea at all. I suppose the idea is that if I were sitting, hungry and dirty, in a messy room with an overflowing trash can, unpaid bills, and an un- or unprofessionally-dicked-around-on Internet with a bored, angry feline for companionship, I would be in less of a fit state to properly enjoy my leisure time than I am at present. But with bedtime on the horizon in about T-minus-five-minutes, you will doubtless see the Catch-22 inherent in such logic.