15/02/2025

On productivity and takeout

TW: mention of alcohol and disordered eating

I survived valentine´s day, as I always do, because it is never as dramatic as I think. 

Although I ate a whole chocolate cake by myself and drank half a bottle of gin, which I swore to never do again, because it makes me feel disgusting. And I am disgusting.

Luckily, I blacked out at 10pm, and woke up quite refreshed at 8am this morning, before my alarm. I stayed in bed for half an hour browsing Pinterest, decided to go to the fleamarket, got dressed and ready in 10 minutes, chugged an energy drink, and put my clothes in the washing machine on my way out.

I took the bus for about 15 minutes, found a cheap vintage coat for exactly the amount of money I had on me, waited for the bus back and came home within an hour of leaving. The coat does not smell of grandma or basement, and is in very good condition; it just needs a little bit of cleaning, which I did.

I finished a knit sweater I had started over a month ago while catching up on YouTube, and decided to go and buy a clothesrack, for whatever reason. So I went out, took the bus, found the clothesrack I wanted, and got takeout on the way home, which I rarely treat myself to, especially not after a planned binge.

Now it is 2pm, and I´m writing this blog entry, waiting to eat my takout, which is probabaly getting cold already.

I call  this act The original Female Experience.

It has been quite the "productive" day, although I did not do any of the things I would normally do on a productive day. I have not touched my work for uni, and I´m trying not to do so until monday, to enjoy my weekend. 

I really struggle with being "unproductive", always have, especially since starting uni. Although I always work ahead, I feel like time is slipping between my fingers. my whole body itches to open my word document and finish my term paper. "Word document", here, is used in singular, because I only have one term paper left to do, which I´m halfway finished with anyways. This is the level of stress my body thinks is normal: having more than a month to write the last 25.000 signs on a topic that I really enjoy researching (more on that in a later blog entry).

Most of my friends have not even touched their two term papers and other three essays that are due until the end of march, and I don´t see them stressing out. I really have to work on this mindset. You even see it in the way I write: I have noticed that I tend to use longer words, or write out "have not" etcetera, instead of abbreviating it, because unconsciously, I try to up my wordcount.

That is so silly.