21st
AAAA
The day’s shortcomings were in plain view. It had not been entirely efficient, and Gal had a habit of riding the momentum of the morning into the late hours of the night. If he fucked up before noon there was almost no reason to continue trying for the rest of the day. It was almost as if failure gave him an excuse to fail again. But tomorrow would be better, or at least he would tell himself so. Tomorrow he would wake up and try his best from the second he finished his breakfast to the moment when the only thing that could keep him from studying would be the sleepless ache in his temporal lobe.
Still, tomorrow he would wake up and spend an extra hour eating breakfast, or an extra twenty minutes showering, or a few twenty-minute breaks playing guitar. And he would not study until his eyes were weary and his forehead sagged from the nominal excretions, he would stop early. He would stop early and read a book, because it was subconsciously perceived to be a productive task, and his mindset was one that yearned to be diligent. And then he would tell himself that tomorrow, he would try harder.
