Seventeen

I might have jinxed myself the other day with all that talk about productivity. Yesterday was… horrible. Not because I didn't do much, but because I simply didn't. Period. I might have made my way from the couch to the fridge and back when the hunger got too bad, and then from the couch to the bathroom a couple of times. Then, very late at night, from the couch to my bed. Just, vegetated like I hadn't in a long while. Not since I'd moved out. Not since I'd stopped being depressed. And now I'm starting to feel down again. I know I should do something, anything, finish my grocery shopping, take out the trash, call mom, go out with Z and J. Anything. Heck, I should get my car washed. But I haven't got the inclination. Don't like myself when I'm this way.