I just don’t want to get out of bed. It feels warm under the covers and the breeze coming in from the window is comforting. I usually have work on Saturday, but I changed my hours to have more free time to do things I really enjoy like hanging out with friends, reading, writing, listening to music, and of course having extra time to do homework, but I’ve done none of that, and I suppose I feel guilt and shame for not doing the things I truly enjoy, instead of stuffing myself with food and zoning out to terrible TV shows. I’m sure this happens to everyone once in a while, and sometimes, like today, I need to remind myself that that’s okay. Normally, during the week, I’m not even using my phone that much to watch anything. Maybe I shouldn’t be so hard on myself, maybe my body and mind needed this type of rest. I know, despite all this ranting fueled by shame and guilt, that I’m a good person and student and friend, and I’m also human —privy to mistakes—and someone also dealing with perfectionism, realizing that life’s not perfect and we have to make the best of it. Anyways, life wouldn’t be worth living if it was perfect because there’d be no drama, no tragedy or comedy, nothing to laugh at or cry at. Life would be like a long, blank slate going on and on and on. In a way, I’m glad that I get in these depressive moods because it lets me strengthen and reevaluate my determination to just be good enough.