Cleaning the place and cooking ahead (packaging/freezing my own healthy "TV dinners") today, trying to mostly stay away from WIP and let it cool. May even clean the oven, though that's getting dangerous close to "Fix it chore" in low appeal. (Not that I'd turn on the oven in these 100 degree days.) Some poetry is revised, sent out two batches of what's competent, looked up some more agents for WIP, even found a blog post that made me think "she'd like this novel." Posted a lot here these two days.
But even though I'm being productive at something, I feel strangely guilty for not churning out new fictional words every day. I feel like I got a dishonorable discharge from the daily 500 words thread (I didn't, and I feel welcome there, and it's nuts to feel so guilty and ashamed, but I do!)