Woke up somewhat on time, just had to press the snooze button five times. I lay in bed for an hour more, drifting between sleep and wakefulness till I heard a ping from my phone. It was time to read the news, from Facebook. To ensure I’m up to date on what is going on in other people’s lives, I go through the various social media profiles of people who often have some kind of drama going on. Mind you, I don’t partake in this activity to take pleasure in watching people waste their lives on issues of no significance, (I have better things to do, such as the four assignments due today and tomorrow), but because I care. Of course I don’t provide any constructive criticism or helpful advice to the person at the centre of the online conflict but rather discuss this with a group of people privately. I see a bunch of other posts from friends and acquaintances, some out with friends and some talking about how difficult college is. This makes me think of the work I have due and so I reward myself for thinking about it by having breakfast.
I take a picture of the neatly arranged fruits and vegetables on my plate and post it on Instagram with the hashtags #fitnessfreak, #mybodyismytemple and #donteatjunk. I push the plate away and scour the fridge for the ten-inch bar of chocolate. I devour it. To finish it off, I chug a mug of powdered coffee in which I just had to add spoonfuls of sugar. The sugar that is already in the coffee powder I use isn’t enough for me, because after all, I am very productive and need the energy. I spend the next 30 minutes roaming around and checking my phone to see how many notifications I got for the picture I posted.
For some reason, I feel sick. I lie down and Google my symptoms. It says the chocolate and sugar may have something to do with it. But then I remember that Google isn’t my doctor and I shouldn’t believe it. I tell myself that the information is incorrect but don’t bother to go through legitimate research to find out why I think so. I just do. And with this firm belief I close my eyes and fall asleep.
After I wake up from the nap I took two hours after waking up, I drag my body to my desk about two feet away from my bed. There I see the stack of notes I had taken from students who pay attention in class and remember the four assignments I have due, one today and three tomorrow. The one due at 5:00pm today hasn’t been touched.
It’s noon now and I might have just wasted three hours. I feel this anxiousness building up in my chest and within a few seconds, I feel like I’m combustible. I realise that I have 5 more hours left, but I’m full of rage, and my hand reaches out towards my phone. The bright red notifications on my social media apps catch my eye and I want the number of notifications to quadruple. I sit down to carefully craft a response that achieves a perfect balance between condemning the system and highlighting the immense burden placed on the shoulders of young students to garner both outrage and sympathy for woeful creatures like us.
Meanwhile, another hour passes.
Aliza is Matilda resurrected. Reach her at email@example.com