It was a gloomy day, once again. The sky was filled with clouds but I forced myself to get out of bed. Days were unclear now that work was complied with personal life, so closely, that it was hard to separate the two. Some days I tend to give myself a self-care day too long and other days, I feel like checking all the things on the list. Staying home felt like a space I so desirely hoped to escape. My room is burdened with my thoughts, day and night. I should perhaps go for a walk outside to give my room some alone time. Overwhelming thoughts about not doing enough occupies me daily. One thing a day gives me the perfect illusion of being productive. 

As the tea boils over the pot, I turn off the stove. I wish it was as easy as pouring hot tea into a cup as it was pouring my thoughts to others. I sip the tea as I choose something to watch on the television. Binge-watching has become my best friend, someone I could have the deep conversations I craved with friends. I login into zoom and get ready for class. The only human contact was through technology lately, how strange was that? It was good knowing people were doing well. As class was over, I lay on my bed. Staring at the wall about thinking about the things that needed to get done. Inside my mind, I am finishing a maze, to answer the very question: Whether today will finally be the day I do it or shall I just leave it for tomorrow? 

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