20 Jul 2017

8am

You’ve got your first free day in yonks and you have a whole heap of boxes to tick in a list longer than the line to a festival toilet right before the police checkpoint. This day is YOURS. You think to yourself, OK, I can get a lot done today, crush a lot of birds with barely any stones. And that’s completely honest. You CAN get a lot done. What occurs in the following hours is another thing entirely.

9:30am

You’ve gotten out of bed, had a nutritious breakfast that’ll fuel you through your uber productive day, hopped into the shower, and cleaned yourself off. You’re sitting at your desk which you’ve organised with the speed and enthusiasm of a recently released convict. You are ready. You are capable. You… deserve a reward for showing such personal initiative in turning your life around. You open Reddit, or Youtube, and treat yourself to a spiralling rabbit hole of puppies competing in spaghetti eating contest videos.

10:57am

You’ve finally had your fill of your hard earned reward. But wait, it’s pretty much 11. And pretty much 11 means it’s pretty much lunch time. You check your blank word document. Oh well, you’ll be twice as productive after a solid meal.

11:42am

You’re back from lunch. But in super rare form, you’ve made a terrible decision. You’ve just demolished a family sized pizza with garlic bread. You’re feeling bloated, groggy, lethargic. This is no way to work! You decide to go for a walk, burn some of those calories you so happily scoffed down. You sit at the edge of your bed and pull your socks on.

1:17pm

You’ve just awoken from an impromptu nap. OK, so you’ve deviated a little from your plan, but that doesn’t matter. A cheeky siesta never hurt anyone. You’re refreshed, revitalised, ready. You sit down and begin typing. Yes – you’ve finally gotten your groove on. The cerebral momentum is rolling, this is what your day is about.

1:52pm

You’ve definitely gotten something done by now. Your eye lingers on the clock. Surely you’ve earned another break. You vaguely recall skimming a psychology journal about the human mind not being able to really concentrate for more than half an hour. You vaguely recall the Roman legionnaires method of marching, a short break for every seven minutes of movement… or something to that affect. You open up Netflix. The 300th Marvel series just dropped.

3:37pm

You had no idea who this superhero was an hour and forty-five minutes ago but they are suddenly your world and all you care about. You check the time. The day is almost over, and you’ve gotten less done than the UN Security Council. You’ll try again after dinner. For now, the adventures of Captain Legal Immunity.

7:15pm

You’ve had your dinner. You’ve had your nap. You’ve had your play time. Now it’s time to get some serious work done in the next few hours before you can turn in. Then it happens. That thought. Oh God, I’ve wasted the day. I’’m completely f*cked. What’s the point of it all??

10:45pm

That’s it. Game over. Finito. A day and night have passed, and all you have to show for it is three paragraphs of convoluted, factually insubstantial essay filler, a full Netflix queue, and an empty pantry. The sun and the moon bare witness to your shame. You slink into bed with your tail tucked between your legs. You’ll try again tomorrow.

by Garry Lu