Nothing...

T and I spent the entire weekend, save for a few hours of work on Saturday, doing absolutely nothing. Why is it if you do nothing, but do nothing with someone else you never have the same guilty feeling than if you had done nothing all by yourself? Like somehow hanging out with someone else (regardless of how unproductive your time may be) counts as doing something. Which, I suppose, it may be.

Did that make any sense?

So the weekend was almost entirely dedicated to time spent on the couch, in bed, on the terrace, by the pool and at the beach… occasionally with a cocktail in hand.

Sometimes doing nothing can be fun…