As I got home from school I went onto Netflix and started my favorite episode of Gilmore Girls before I started my homework. Before I knew it, one episode turned into ten. But I deserved the break after such a long day of school. Sure, maybe this was my fifth time rewatching it, but who’s counting.
I headed to my room and I was welcomed by the haunting pile of laundry covering the bedroom floor. And of course the only way to start studying was to be in a clean space since it’s unfeasible to start work on my article with the presence of unfolded socks.
So, I folded all of my laundry and maybe rearranged my closet by color, texture and size along the way. But this was completely acceptable since then I had clean space to work in.
Finally, I had a clean area to start on my article. I put my earbuds in and I went into my Spotify only to be extremely disappointed with how unaesthetically pleasing it was. The story could wait since this was a personal brand crisis titled “CODE RED.” So, I obviously had to reorganize all my playlists and give them aesthetic covers and names that I definitely did not find on Pinterest. But now I had easy access to playlists which in the long term will actually save me time, even though I had spent hours fixing it.
As I began to start my homework my stomach growled in disappointment. Then I remembered I hadn’t eaten a single crumb, morsel, molecule or atom of food since I had gotten home. So, I began to cook myself a pasta and salad dinner. As I ate my food while watching my favorite YouTube channel, my once full bowl of pasta was then empty. But, I had to finish the video because I have a moral obligation to finish everything I start.
Then, I was completely ready to start studying and get all my homework done. But then I looked at the clock which then read 10:43 p.m.
How was it already 11p.m. and not a single word of homework was done?
Although I had felt more productive than Sherlock Holmes on three cups of coffee solving a triple murder. Well, then it was obviously way too late to start any of that silly thing called “story assignments.”
So, I went along and did my 10-step night routine. Because I followed the wise immortal words of Rory Gilmore I needed to get my beauty sleep since she said, “Who cares if I fail my finals if I’m pretty?” or something like that.
Then as I fell asleep with my clean socks and heatless curls I got a text from my Editor-in-Chief asking how my article is going. But I just told myself “I will finish it tomorrow.” Well, unless Netflix adds another season.