Weekends are my dead days. Filled with constant procrastination, overthinking and expectations.
Whenever a weekend is just around the corner I pull out the lists of things I wanna achieve. Things that I ought to complete. The ideas I hope to conceive. Things that have to get done sooner than later...But do I do any of that? Not a chance.
Instead I end up overthinking things. One... Two... Three hours is more than enough to drive myself insane. Past the point where I can't stand me anymore than I can stand the mental strain of leaving things till the very last second. So what do I do about it? Nothing. I just lay there in the darkness of my room, washing away all signs of feeling by watching series after series wasting my days away.
It's my very own version of "drinking to forget" because after I'm done I always end up feeling more empty than when I started and half of the memories of the past week are gone. Vanished into the void, replaced by the artificially created feelings caused by vicariously living your life through someone else's.
Not to say that I don't enjoy the dead days every once in a while. But once you've spent three- or sometimes four or five -consecutive days without leaving your bed except for grabbing something to eat or to make a quick stop for the bathroom... well that's when you know you've got a problem...
