Sometimes, when I'm idle, I get an urge to do something of great importance or usefulness; almost unfailingly, I am unable to think of something monumental to do or find the willingness to ponder further. I suppose the feeling is a side-effect of lethargy, an uneventful past month, and my continued procrastination on a novel I want to write, but vindicating its existence doesn't sweeten its taste.

Before anyone says anything to this effect, no, homework does not count as useful or important in my imaginings.