The question arises, in a not altogether sarcastic nature, What do I do when I'm not being an idiot? Maybe, in an act of questionable quandary, some nefarious interrogator has lobbed this same inquisitive rhetoric in your general direction. If so, maybe I can help. A question bridled with such lofty purpose as to ascertain the carrying on of my less-than-imbecilic moments is a weighty one. It is a question not to be rushed through, and must be carefully contemplated. My first response, a kind of mental-knee-jerk-reaction, would be to assume that when I'm not being an idiot I must, by way of opposites be doing something not idiotic. Curing a horrible illness, solving the nation's terrible financial woes, and feeding starving children in Africa are certainly not idiotic, but I have done none of those, and so they cannot help to answer the question.
Secondly, I could propose that something I do actually do might be less than idiotic, like feeding my cats, taking out the trash, or voting; but then again there will be plenty of ballots cast in a most idiotic way in this election cycle so I suppose that doesn't hold up well either depending on your particular political leaning.
Lastly, I consider that there must be a greater philosophical question at work. If I am at some point doing something that is something someone does when they're not being idiotic, then there is the lofty insinuation that at some point I must not be idiotic. I am afraid there is very little evidence to support such a claim.
Perhaps it is a requisite gender trait or a lasting permanent defect, resultant from watching far too much second hand reality TV, or ingesting a hulking amount of preserved frozen chicken. Maybe it's a systemic flaw in the great American education system. Or maybe it's nature. My nature.
Maybe my default position is idiot. Maybe I don't do anything when I'm not being an idiot because truly I'm never not an idiot.