Revelling in the rot

These past few days have been ill-spent in indolence and self-absorption. Not doing anything to help humanity nor lifting a finger to save the world. The world can take care of itself for a spell, and no one said I was indispensable. So I've just been revelling in the rot, allowing the ol' brain to decay, letting everything go back to tending toward entropy. I'm tired of fighting, tired of thinking that I'm so important. I'm quite obviously so not. What I want is to continue spending the next few days content to nurse an icy umbrella drink in one hand while slumping comatose in a deck chair on a white-sand beach. No responsibilities, no obligations, it's all me-time.

I'm sure there's an off-button to the guilt, though. Don't just stand there -- help me find it!