It was past midnight.
Every part of my body screamed for me to go to bed. Every part, that is, except for my head, which somehow made enough noise on its own to overpower my entire body. It was dissatisfied. Restless.
I made myself a coffee and had my breakfast.
I eat breakfast now – just before bed time.
I wrote myself a to-do list for tomorrow. It included:
Something for my future;
Something for my health;
Something educational, and;
To read my book.
Two hours later, I washed my mouth out and wormed my way into a bare space on the bed. I fell asleep before dawn.
When I awoke, I felt like I hadn’t slept at all. Fuck coffee at midnight. Fuck to-do lists. That thing had taken me an hour to write.
I re-read it. And it seemed to make many valid points. I made myself a coffee in preparation for what I was ‘to-do’.
I spent the first two hours of my day forgetting everything on that list. Reading useless crap on the internet. Listening to the same music that I had listened to every day that week. Doing nothing.
I read something that made the music change from comedy to melancholy, to the least fucking listenable music I have. It makes my eyes twitch. And my head jerk.
I saw my coffee waiting for me, cold, on the kitchen bench. I put it in the microwave for a minute and then put it back down on the bench to cool down.
I saw my to-do list wating for me on the floor, next to the bin. It didn’t quite get in. I read it again and put it in my pocket.
Twelve hours later…
It was past midnight.
Again, I was the battlefield for two opposing forces – both weak as shit. My body and my mind.
Mind wins every time. Perhaps because it controls the body.
I made myself a coffee and a snack. The to-do list was still in my pocket. I hadn’t forgotten about it.
I picked up a pen and sat down to read the list again.
“Something social”, I said aloud.
“I said hello to my father when he arrived home.” Done.
I marked a tick on the paper.
“Something for my future.”
I decided not to write to-do lists in the future. Tick.
“Something for my health.”
The shit food I ate, and the caffeine, and the stupid hours I’ll still be awake for ‘tonight’, and doing absolutely no exercise, all help to worsen my health. Tick.
I learned that planning self-improvement requires plans B, C, D and E, but I only have A.
Fuck bothering. Tick.
“Read my book.”
I put the list down, and wondered why I don’t read.
What’s to describe?