I don’t mind Wednesdays. They’re right in the middle of things, and once you do it you only have two days left, right?
I’ve been trying to change this mentality. I don’t want to live for the weekend, especially since I spend most weekends working on school work anyway. It’s a cultural thing, I think–ever since grade school people have been looking forward to Friday, and we loved school back then. Well, at least I did.
It’s not a good feeling to have 5/7 of your days be days you don’t want to live.
I’ve been doing better with depression and anxiety, but I’ve had a bit of a setback recently. Maybe it’s a spring thing; some people clean ther attic, I fall into depression.
I don’t know why it’s come back, and maybe there’s no reason. Sometimes it’s for no reason. I can’t help but think of reasons, though. I’m over stressed, as if that’s something new. I’m worried about my birthday, and the party that will have both sides of my newly divorced family in the same house for the first time in…years, wow, it’s been nearly two years. I’m worried about finding a job for the summer, one that pays but still lets me relax a bit more than I am now.
The worst thing about returning depression is that just the fact that it’s returning is another reason to get depressed.
So, in spirits of fighting away the oncoming doom, I will love Wednesday like it’s Saturday. I’ll take the day’s hardships in stride. Today shall be a day I want to experience, and I’ll stay mindful and present and as happy as I can be.
Worst comes to worst, there’s only two days left.