I’ve been thinking of the most brilliant and original way to begin today’s article for over fifteen minutes now.
Sat in one place, staring blankly at the screen, I’ve been watching the minutes ridicule my every effort as they fly by.
But worry not; I shall come up with a way to commence the story sooner than you might imagine.
Actually, why not start from the ending…
It’s 6 a.m. on a cold Saturday; and you’re awake.
What woke you up, however, was not the freezing sensation which was currently creeping up your spine but a single thought that had stuck in your mind in way which flies stuck to honey; namely, not because it was sticky but because they WANTED to ‘stick around’.
The very fact that you have only slept for three hours perturbs you to such an extent that you get up to grab a glass of warm milk, forgetting that you haven’t got a microwave to warm it up in.
As you down the glass of ice- cold milk, you frown to yourself in the firm belief that you will never have cold milk in your life ever again; ever.
Walking back to your bed you cannot help but feel like a zombie; you can only focus on this one thought that inhabits every corner of your consciousness, every fibre of your being.
Have I done enough lately and will I be able to do enough tomorrow?
It will not let go of you, no matter what you try: working out, jogging, watching mindless movies, socialising…vodka- NOTHING works.
It eats you up and you feel that the darn thought is coming to life and doing the breathing and thinking instead of you.
It keeps reminding you how much you haven’t done and how much more you have to do before being able to feel happy with yourself.
It even makes you go to your desk and look through your to- do list which looks, to your currently troubled mind, looks like a bottomless pit that draws you in.
It’s 6 a.m., for God’s sake; that much you know.
You need your rest, you need your sleep, you need your energy to keep going.
But before that, you need to do those remaining twenty things on that list and think of a legitimate excuse for not having done them yesterday, says the thought.
The more you think about it, the more depressed you feel, mainly because you remember of all those ‘to- do lists’ that you have not been able to see to.
But, as the thought slowly dilutes into the huge mug of black coffee which you have been sipping for the last five minutes, you start realising what day it is.
And, having woken up at 6am means that you will have an astounding eighteen hours of today.
And that’s great because today gives a meaning to yesterday and a hope for tomorrow.
Yesterday was today.
Tomorrow will be today.
As to the ‘to- do list’; well…you can always do that today.
"Yesterday is History,
Tomorrow’s a Mystery,
Today is a Gift,
That’s why it's called the Present."
Pretty simple, right?
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