Woke up in a panic, heart racing, brain screaming “GET UP YOU’RE LATE”.
Sat up, ready to sprint into the chaos... and then remembered.
Holiday.
Lay back down like I just survived a war. Closed my eyes with the kind of smugness you only feel when you know your coworkers are also in bed doing nothing and pretending it’s self-care.
Woke up again at 10. No alarms. No Teams pings. No fake smiling at the screen while muting myself to scream internally.
Dragged myself to the kitchen.
Made coffee like I was on MasterChef. Took three sips. Burnt my tongue. Felt alive.
Made toast. It was mid. But on a holiday? Michelin-star level.
Sat there eating it like I was on a solo retreat, healing from my inbox.
Watched a movie. Then another. Then something I didn’t even like.
Snacked like I was fueling up for a triathlon I would never run.
Scrolled aimlessly. Laughed at memes. Judged influencers. Wondered how people have energy to go out on holidays when my greatest achievement was putting on pants.
At some point I just… stared at the wall. Not even sad. Just… loading.
Realized doing nothing all day sounds fun until you’re actually doing it.
It’s peaceful. Then weird. Then kinda depressing.
I missed pretending to look busy. Missed swearing at my code.
Missed the chaos I claim to hate every weekday.
Sick.
Now here I am. Lying in bed again. Knowing tomorrow I go back.
Back to the fake urgency, the “quick syncs,” and the endless cycle of pretending I care about ticket #834.
One day off. Gone.
What was the point.
Noooo.
Sat up, ready to sprint into the chaos... and then remembered.
Holiday.
Lay back down like I just survived a war. Closed my eyes with the kind of smugness you only feel when you know your coworkers are also in bed doing nothing and pretending it’s self-care.
Woke up again at 10. No alarms. No Teams pings. No fake smiling at the screen while muting myself to scream internally.
Dragged myself to the kitchen.
Made coffee like I was on MasterChef. Took three sips. Burnt my tongue. Felt alive.
Made toast. It was mid. But on a holiday? Michelin-star level.
Sat there eating it like I was on a solo retreat, healing from my inbox.
Watched a movie. Then another. Then something I didn’t even like.
Snacked like I was fueling up for a triathlon I would never run.
Scrolled aimlessly. Laughed at memes. Judged influencers. Wondered how people have energy to go out on holidays when my greatest achievement was putting on pants.
At some point I just… stared at the wall. Not even sad. Just… loading.
Realized doing nothing all day sounds fun until you’re actually doing it.
It’s peaceful. Then weird. Then kinda depressing.
I missed pretending to look busy. Missed swearing at my code.
Missed the chaos I claim to hate every weekday.
Sick.
Now here I am. Lying in bed again. Knowing tomorrow I go back.
Back to the fake urgency, the “quick syncs,” and the endless cycle of pretending I care about ticket #834.
One day off. Gone.
What was the point.
Noooo.
