Some days you just don't feel witty. You don't feel like running, either. What you *do* feel like is marching sullenly down the street and back in yet another ridiculous half-pajama outfit, eking out a couple of sentences which will for some reason count as a blog entry, and then ransacking the pantry for hidden but unexpired treats before laying down to read another 700-page novel.
So then that's what you should do, I say. And I do as I say (and as I do, if I do say so myself). And you should too.