I walk from the sofa to the microwave and back to retrieve my hotpocket. Some days I go out to the mailbox to collect the pile of mail that has built up from the days I didn't quite make it out (but the sun hurts my eyes and burns my pasty skin so I quickly retreat indoors to bask in the glow of my monitor).

On those days that I manage to taste the fresh air I occasionally get the feeling, way in the back of my head, that I should get out and do something. Someday.