“Tomorrow. Tomorrow will be different. I’m not doing this again”

That is what Jon said as he closed his eyes, having survived another day riddled with anxiety.

White fields and leafless apple trees illuminated by the cold winter sun on a Sunday morning. The family is waking up early today. Well… at least Jon is. He’s been on a steady diet of late bedtime and early rising for the past several years. At this point, being chronically sleep deprived is the new normal. Such routine is not helping him but self destructive tendencies are a bitch to get rid of. He knows. He tried remedying that to no avail.

There are many habits that Jon wants to take up which he believes will help him in general feel more at peace, sleep better, eat better and be healthier. Every night he recalls what they are and gets excited about picking them up tomorrow. And every morning, like clockwork, he succeeds consistently with upkeeping 1 habit - doing absolutely nothing of what he planned the previous day. I guess that’s a habit of sorts.

The day goes on as Jon contemplates for a little while what productive activities he wants to do, or rather, should do. “You aren’t a lazy piece of shit, are you?” introspects Jon. And while he’s sitting and thinking, thinking and sitting, Jon can’t just do nothing. So he watches a Youtube video. Then another one. And another until it almost feels peaceful.

“What’s that?” Jon says

“Did you call the hospital to book the appointment yesterday?” asks Claire, Jon’s wife

“N-no” quietly responds Jon. His whole being tensing, eyes looking away as if he expects to be scolded once again. He clearly has been through this before.

“That’s the 5th time you’re postponing it, Jon…” Claire sighs, rubbing her eyes.

The sun is already low as Jon thinks that now is the time to finally be productive. Monday anxiety is starting to creep in like an untreated wound, festering. He picks up a book, starts reading it, only to get distracted by some question his wife asks him. He gets distracted again by a thought. Then a dog. Then a craving for food.

“Oh, damn, it’s almost midnight,” Jon mutters, blinking at the clock. Where did the time go?

He crawls into bed and spends another hour reading random, unimportant crap on his phone, filling his apathetic self with more junk.

“Tomorrow. Tomorrow will be different. I’m not doing this again. Am I?”