I have a four hours lecture

But do I want to go?

The wrapper clings to me like a second skin, and I'm writing this instead of getting ready for class. Not because I'm sick – I'm perfectly healthy, just… unmotivated. I don't want to go, just because I don't want to go. And I want to believe that as a perfectly good reason to not get out of bed and be productive. My legs feel like lead weights, and the thought of dragging myself out of bed is overwhelming.

Yesterday, I clung to the hope that our class would somehow cancel today's lecture. But no, our lecturer, with an energy I can only envy, informed us he'll be back today for his usual four hours. Don't they ever get tired? Don't they ever just want to stay in bed with their partner, lost in a day of lazy bliss?

My stomach growls, a sharp reminder of last night's skipped dinner, but even that isn't enough to lure me out of bed. The fear of failure hangs over me, a persistent shadow. Academic failure and Monday mornings – both equally dreaded. Maybe fear is the only thing that can pull me from these sheets, the fear of failing, the fear of losing marks in my presentation/test, the fear of... well, everything.

Writing this, admitting it all, has given me a tiny nudge. But the truth is, do I want to get up and face it all? Maybe, just maybe, I can push myself a little further, but the battle for motivation rages on.

7:35, and I'm still here, comfortably failing at adulting, still wrapped in the comforts of my sheets. I know I'll probably go, but a part of me wishes I could stay.

P.S : I went to class. Don't tell my parents I almost didn't (for the sake of their peace of mind ) .

Your anonymous bestie

Ree🤍