I did something bad last night.
Didn’t drink much.
Didn’t hook up with anyone.
Didn’t even crash my car and run away with a stranger to Spain.
Not any of that normal stuff, no. I did something that has completely ruined me the next day. I can’t even believe I let myself do it.
I went to bed at 3am.
Dun dun dunnnnnnnnn.
Okay, I know. I know. It’s really not that bad, but it sure as hell felt awful when I woke up this morning. Even after 6 hours I felt like total garbage. Could hardly even lift my head up off the pillow. And that’s a hard pill to swallow.
That’s because it’s easy to remember the days when it wasn’t like this. Not because I’m that much older (I’m only 25), it’s just that treating your body like a temple 99% of the time and then throwing yourself totally out of whack makes you realize that things may have swung the other way.
Not that I’m too healthy, because I still have health issues, but I’m not allowing myself enough slack. And it’s not because I want to head out to the club and slut-drop to Ariana Grande. I also want to be okay when I decide to enjoy myself.
I guess you can’t let yourself get too prim and proper. Too restrained. So freaking uptight about making sure everything coming in is so perfect that you can’t even go out and enjoy yourself.
I really don’t wanna be that person.