I'm wrestling with making bacon cheese hotdogs. I really do need to eat, and the bacon has been in there for a bit, it could use being cooked off. And it involves standing. I did the dishes because it involved standing. Same with the laundry.
Ok, I made the hot dogs. Bacon and all. At midnight.
I have enough energy and inspiration to go hang the fabric in my room, but an overwhelming feeling Doc would throttle me when he got home for it. Instead, I'll just sit here and argue with the dog over the need for him to lick himself constantly . . . on my pillow.