Productivity Guilt

Alarm clock screaming, steel toe morning. Punch the clock, yeah, life keeps calling.

8 hours deep, same old grind. Counting minutes like they're mine. I get home

and drop my keys. Controller hums like therapy. One more match

turns into three. Sun goes down, it's just me and the screen. Feels good just

to shut my brain off. Feels worse when the whole day's gone.

Now I'm stuck in productivity guilt. Watching hours melt on my shelf. Yeah,

it's nice to finally breathe, but I'm scared I'm wasting me. Every night hit

save and quit. Tell myself tomorrow's it. I relax, but it feels