I feel so bad knowing I’m about to complain about my week when I go to a great school, I have a stable job, I eat more than three meals a day, I have the liberty to choose whether to feel cold or warm at night, I hardly suffer the pains of commuting, and I just visited the art repository of the world. Oh and I have the most romantic partner ever.

So in essence I’m quite blessed. When I think about it, my problems right now are not even problems. Am I saving enough money? When is my next travel? When should I take advanced photography classes? Are my running shoes still clean? Can I really afford a computer when I’m planning to take another trip soon?

And then it slowly takes a turn to confused. Am I supposed to really be working on this? Why do you have a book on something that goes obsolete every six months? Where am I supposed to go after this? Is there leftover food for me? How is this even possible when I clearly remember not supporting this endeavor? Should I really be responsible for this?

Sometimes, it’s even depressing. Will it make a difference if he was here? How will I explain this to my future husband? Where do I go after this? Is my time here enough to leave a legacy?

Don’t get me wrong; I love my life. In spite of my internal demons, I honestly believe my blessings outweigh my struggles and I openly admit that. I do my best to not take those good things for granted. More importantly, I make sure that I always give it back, pay it forward, or do something that will somehow give back to the world because it has sincerely been good to me.

There are just those days when you wish sleeping in is the only thing listed on your to-dos.

Thank God for the weekend. Finally some me time.

Oh wait. I have class tomorrow.