What I do with my time is more or less what I’ve been trained to do by a childhood where duty consisted primarily in becoming educated. I read, and write, and think. In college that’s considered a good use of time; even as a young Christian it’s considered a good use of time: our present culture demands that we know a good deal in order to understand what is happening in the light of what has happened in the past, and we are expected to be able to read quickly and with a good understanding. So it should come as no surprise that I have not only a very strong habit for reading, but that it’s difficult to regard the indulgence of it as wrong. If I watch eight hours of TV, then it’s obvious to everyone that I’m beset with sloth, in both the spiritual and worldly senses. If, however, I spend eight hours reading a novel followed by a history of the black death in fourteenth century Europe, and still manage to go to work in the morning, it is not obvious that this is wrong.
Using the definition of sloth mentioned earlier, of it being primarily negligence in spiritual matters, it would probably be worth mentioning that I have plenty of time to read novels, but never seem to get around to reading the Bible, or extra services, and I skipped Bible study that night.