Semi-organized compulsive bookbuying is a great distractor in a large city for a bourgeois NEET (look up whether the term has an age limit. thankfully [?] no, so you still have an identity). Wake up slightly late, make a mental list of all the bookstores  you haven't  visited recently and don't have any debts or personal problems with the owners/employees, and ride public transport there, walk in, lose yourself in shelves. You're not looking for anything in particular, just The Book. The Book will change your life, set you free from the catatonia that you've been stuck in for the last how many years?, will let you look at yourself in the mirror again, will give you something to talk about with those people you still call friends.

The Book is, of course,  never in the first bookstore you visit. No worries, the city has enough neighborhoods with too many bookstores (most of them are terrible and never have anything but you have to go in anyway [except the one that always smells of cat piss]). First, a decision: do you walk away empty handed (too rude), politely say that you don't have any money (a lie most of the time), ask to put them on hold (you can cycle through other stores until the on hold period is over), buy the cheapest reputable book (never worth reading), buy a book that looks interesting enough but that you know that you will never read (you have too many of those at home), buy a book that you actually will read but is too expensive (sadly the most common choice).

Another decision to make: straight to the next bookstore (don't escape your thoughts), have some unhealthy breakfast (euphemism) in a food stand (tacos de canasta? pambazo?), a walk in the park that you hate (okay the park is nice [but the air rarefied by digital nomads and the like throws you off]), sit in a café and pretend to work on something you've pretended to work on for years at this point with nothing to show for it (too embarrassing, you end up  scrolling online for hours on end [hoping for a post that might tell you The Book's title]).

Next bookstore. As for the bookstores (note: only secondhand, you only go to the
new book places when you want something specific that you know they carry) themselves: all the owners know you, most of them like you to some degree (every business loves the client who spends too much money), the shelves don't change much from month to month, but it's in the subtle adjustments of the shelves that you can find The Book or so you've told yourself too many times. There's titles you see in most stores, you know the pricing habits of every owner/employee (nearly a pointless distinction), you
know most of the treasures they have (or what they think treasures are). No sight of The Book.

You could try another one. You do so most of the time. Ritual is over. You go back home, usually with a new lowercase book. You didn't even really read today.  You also didn't have to think about your life or the state of the world. A great distractor.