Continuing with Today’s episode of “Why Did I Leave My Bed?” the chaotic second half of my day, starring my psych seminar – which honestly felt like background noise to my slow mental breakdown.
We wrapped up the seminar and I left feeling like I’d just donated an hour of my life to the void. I’m still not entirely sure what we were supposed to have “learned,” other than the fact that time is fake and I have no attention span left. Then came the big reveal: our assignment has to be done in a group. A group. Which is… ideal… when I talk to absolutely nobody.
There’s nothing quite like the lecturer casually dropping, “So you’ll all need to form groups” as if that doesn’t send shivers down every socially awkward student’s spine. Meanwhile I’m sat there like, “Who exactly am I grouping with? My intrusive thoughts? My anxiety? The girl I made eye contact with once in Week 2?” Apparently, I now need to unlock the ‘making friends’ side quest just to pass this module. Very bold of the universe to assume I have that in me.
I finally escaped campus at 5pm, which, in a moment of pure genius, meant I’d timed my exit perfectly with rush hour. Peak decision-making from me, honestly. The drive home was an odyssey. Nearly two hours of stop-start traffic, staring at brake lights, and rethinking every choice that led me to the commuter lifestyle. Sometimes commuting feels less like “going to uni” and more like I’m working a second unpaid job as a professional driver.
By the time I got home, I felt like I’d aged about three years. I headed straight for dinner – sausage and mash (elite comfort food, no notes). That first bite after a long day? Healing. Genuinely the highlight of the evening. I quickly washed up afterwards like the responsible adult I’m desperately trying to be, even though all I really wanted to do was flop face-first onto my bed and become one with the duvet.
Once the kitchen was sorted, I retreated to my room – my safe little cave of chaos and comfort – and finally did something productive for my soul: I FINALLY finished Stranger Things. This has been a long time coming. Between uni, commuting, and my very dramatic flop era, it’s taken me ages to get through it. But we made it. Emotional damage? Off the charts. Am I okay? Debatable. Was it worth it? Absolutely.
There’s something so weirdly satisfying about finishing a show you’ve been dragging out for months. It’s like closing a chapter of your life you didn’t realise was open. Now I have a new problem: what on earth do I watch next while pretending I don’t have a group assignment to worry about?
And now here I am, sitting on my bed, typing out the grand finale to my very average yet somehow exhausting day, wearing my pixie eye mask like the sleep-deprived princess I am. Despite the chaos – the pointless-feeling seminar, the group work panic, the traffic, the general sense of “what am I even doing?” – I’m feeling weirdly hopeful that tomorrow might be a bit better.
Yes, I’ll be up at the crack of dawn to take my sister to school, which is not exactly the soft, slow morning of my Pinterest dreams. But there’s something a bit comforting in knowing I’ll get a head start on the day, even if I’m running on vibes and caffeine. Maybe tomorrow I’ll actually be brave and talk to someone from my seminar. Or maybe I’ll just make it to all my classes on time and call that a win. Either way, it still counts.
If your day also felt long, slightly pointless in places, and held together mainly by stubbornness and snacks, you’re definitely not alone. Some days aren’t glamorous or productive or aesthetic – they’re just… survived. And that is absolutely enough.
So, goodnight from me and my slowly de-puffing under-eyes. Here’s to fewer group project nightmares, lighter traffic, shows that wreck us in the best way, and alarms that hurt just a tiny bit less tomorrow.
Sleep well, recharge, and we’ll try again in the morning. xx
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