Procrastinating
I’ve been telling myself all day: “I can do it. I should do it.” It’s on today's list. But who would really know if it got pushed? I’ll probably do it better when I’m fully into it anyway. “Relax,” I tell myself. “You’ve
I’ve been telling myself all day: “I can do it. I should do it.” It’s on today's list. But who would really know if it got pushed? I’ll probably do it better when I’m fully into it anyway. “Relax,” I tell myself. “You’ve
I creep towards the door. "Here we go, the big reveal!" My hand grasps the cold handle, a shiver of anticipation running down my spine. The fridge door swings open—ta-da! ‘You’ve got to be kidding me,’ I think, my hopes deflating like a sad balloon after
Leg day. The mere thought sends shivers down my spine. "Legs of steel," I whisper, rallying my spirits. "Let's forge them." The squat rack stands like a medieval torture device. I brace myself. "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger,"
"Are you aligned?" A group of suited figures launch into the trivialities as if they're deciding the fate of the universe. "Sure, but are you aligned?" comes the snappy retort, infusing a sense of urgency into the conversation. "And how about that? Are
“Ding! Ding! Ding!” The alarm went off early today and my heart skipped a beat. Flight day! I was up and calling a cab before I could even rub the sleep from my eyes. The cab ride to the airport felt longer than usual. I kept checking the time every
"Come on, sleep. Just...sleep,” I murmur to myself. Tensing every muscle, trying to relax. "Maybe flipping the pillow to the cool side will help?” I think, doing just that. "Am I thirsty?" I look for the water bottle and I curse, "Damn it, the
“Eye on the ball,” I remind myself. My living room transforms into the pitch, and I can smell the grass, feel the sun. I’m in my lucky spot, imaginary bat in hand, as the pacer begins his run-up. "Footwork’s the key," I coach myself, the bowler&
My ancestors heard a leaf move and ran for their lives, not knowing whether it was the wind or a lurking tiger. For them, safety was a clear-cut concept – escape danger, find shelter, survive. But now, it's different, more complicated, less about what’s out there and more
First of the month. “What’s up, Richie Rich?” I joke to myself, staring at the salary credited text. “A new phone? Maybe a bigger TV?” I wonder, but then settle on upgrading my laptop—a necessity, I convince myself, for someone as ‘professional’ as me. Then the texts start
“Those day traders won’t know what hit them,” I tell my reflection with a determined nod. I’m pumped, ready for the kill. The charts gleam. First trade, I pounce, and it nosedives. “That’s just mean,” I mutter, shaking my head—it’s just a bad start. I
I plop down at the restaurant, my stomach’s making all sorts of noises, and I go through the menu. “Yup, yup, yup,” I’m thinking, ‘cause everything looks amazing. I’m ready to feast. Waiters come and go, each one looking like they might be bringing my order. I
“Are you coming?" My friends are all asking. They're getting ready to head out, waiting for me to say I'll be there soon. But I just shake my head and text back, "Nah, you guys go ahead." I'm not sure why
"First!" I announce to the empty office chairs, a small victory to start the day. It’s going to be a good one, I can feel it. My keyboard goes tap-tap-tap. “They’re going to be wowed,” I say to myself, as I beam at the progress on
Another year, another birthday. Honestly, the whole thing feels kind of stupid. People making a fuss because the calendar says I’m a year older. I glance at my phone, dreading the well-wishes. Don't need any of that fuss. Grown-ups shouldn't be all caught up in
My inner voice is usually kind. It reassures me that I'm good enough and, when things don't go as planned, makes up a fictional story where I'm the hero. Usually. Unusually, the voice becomes an agent of chaos. It spirals, highlighting every flaw, real