You wake up in a startle, thinking that you’re late for something but you don’t know what. The sun is streaming in through the curtains, and everythings seems bliss and peaceful. This is not a good sign. This means that it’s after ten and you’ve overslept.
You’re right. The clock on your phone says that it’s 10.20, along with a couple of messages from your friends asking about your whereabouts. You send them a quick message saying you’re not feeling well. Considering how many times you’ve used this excuse, they might think you have some kind of immunodeficiency. Oh well, it looks like you’ve missed your commitments and now have a free day on your hands. What are you going to do?
You decide that to make yourself feel better, you’re going to do something fun. Not something work related, because anymore reading textbooks or searching for obscure terms on google and you might need to be hospitalized. You decide you’re going to have a You-Day. It’s a special day where you do what you want, when you want, wherever you want it (within legal boundaries). You spring out of bed, ready to make use of the next 16 hours or so to really celebrate what it means to live.
You get out of bed, get dressed, and have a morning cup of coffee. So far, so good. The coffee is just right, and it’s putting you in a good mood. You browse your Facebook and emails for a bit. There’s nothing there, except a cute video of some children falling over in a playground, and you decide to watch it.
The next thing you know, you’re lying back in your bed, with your belly as a makeshift table on which your laptop rests. It’s been an hour, and you haven’t really done anything except watch funny videos on Youtube and like a couple of pictures of people that you’re jealous of. Why do you go on Facebook so much anyways? Everyone is smiling, having fun, travelling somewhere fancy with fancy clothes, fancy sunglasses, and fancy captions. And you’re stuck here unable to peel yourself off your mattress. This is not how You-day is supposed to be going at all.
Alright, next plan. You’re going to do something you’ve always wanted to – go for a run. It’s sunny outside and the temperature is as good as it’ll ever get during winter, so there isn’t any reason not to go. You put on your dusty trainers, plucked from the depths of the wardrobe from which you have not reached for many months (in there also lies ugly sweaters that should never see the light of day and an ab wheel you once thought you might use). You grab a pair of headphones and head out, determined to make it about a marathon and a half before coming back.
You return five minutes later. It really wasn’t very warm indeed, and the cold was making your ears feel numb. Not good, you don’t like it when your ears hurt. So you climb back into bed and watch more dumb videos and give likes to more of your dumb friends photos (you love them, but Gosh you hate their dumb perfect lives).
So this continues for a bit. Actually, for the rest of the day. You break for lunch, during which you watch whatever new TV show you’re on. You watch about three episodes too many, until you’ve given yourself what you term a ‘TV headache.’ That’s when you watch so much TV that it feels your eyeballs and inside of your brain are melting. You decide you’re going to lie down for a bit, just for five minutes, until this headache goes away.
When you wake up, it’s two hours later and the sun has already set. You look around you, unsure what day or time it is. Oh that’s right, you think to yourself. Today was supposed to be Me-day. I was supposed to have done some self-discovery or something. But I just ended up lazing around like a obese sloth. Excellent work.
You decide to yourself that you’ll never have another You-day for the rest of your life. At least, not one where you pretend that it’s a day for yourself but in actual fact it’s just an excuse to do nothing at all. You go and grab some dinner – before that, making sure to set the alarm for eight a.m. the next day.