Rinse and Repeat
Most mornings I wake far too late to be considered productive. After downing a black cup of coffee that no longer holds the appeal it used to, I sit. I stare at nothing and accomplish even less.
When I finally decide to be productive, I crack open my aged laptop — the one with dents and scratches from a few too many drops. The moment its screen flickers awake, that familiar panic creeps into my chest. The carousel of negative thoughts starts spinning again, loud and repetitive, and everything I planned for the day collapses under it.
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So I retreat. Into distractions. Into anything that makes the noise quiet down. I tell myself I’ll start in a little bit. In an hour. Tonight. Tomorrow.
Eventually, I climb into bed, restless and empty, distracting myself a little further until I can finally convince myself there’s no point in staying awake. I fall asleep knowing exactly what pattern I’m repeating, unsure how to break it, carrying just a little less hope and a little less desire into the next day.
But I wrote today. And maybe…that counts for something.
