Tomorrow

Maybe Tomorrow I get around to it

The glowing rectangle of his laptop screen seemed to mock Leo. It was almost 8 PM. On the display, the half-finished presentation for Clara’s charity gala flickered, a silent accusation. The deadline loomed; the event was just three days away.

A resolute nod. "Right," he declared to the quiet hum of his apartment, the words a puff of warm air in the cool evening. "This is it. No more putting it off. The presentation for Clara’s charity gala. Tonight, it gets done."

He meant it. He really did. He felt a surge of genuine conviction, a rare, potent wave of ‘get-it-done’ energy. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, ready to summon the spirit of productivity, to wrestle the unwieldy slides filled with graphs and heartwarming statistics into submission.

Just as his fingertips brushed the cold plastic, a notification glowed on his phone screen beside him �" a new level unlocked in ‘Chronicles of Eldoria.’

"Ah," he murmured, his conviction wavering like a poorly-strung kite in a gust of wind. "Just ten minutes," he rationalized, "to clear my head. A sharp mind is a productive mind."

Ten minutes bled into twenty, then thirty. The vibrant, pixelated world of Eldoria swallowed him whole, its urgent quests and epic battles far more compelling than pie charts about donor demographics. His phone grew warm in his hand, a comfortable weight.

A yawn stretched his jaw. He glanced at the clock, then back at the phone, then at the laptop, which now looked even more daunting in its silent repose. The initial surge of resolve had ebbed, replaced by the familiar tug of fatigue and the seductive whisper of procrastination.

"You know what?" he murmured to the empty room, his eyes still fixed on the scrolling credits of his latest in-game triumph. "I’ll be much more rested and focused tomorrow. Definitely. Tomorrow’s the day. I’ll wake up early, hammer it out, no distractions."

He clicked the laptop shut, the satisfying thud a final punctuation mark on his broken resolve. A small, insistent prickle of guilt burrowed beneath his contentment, but he shooed it away. Tomorrow was a fresh start. Tomorrow, he’d be a machine of efficiency.

He tucked his phone into his pocket and headed for the kitchen, suddenly hungry. The presentation could wait.

The morning light, usually a gentle balm, felt judgmental. The laptop sat accusingly on the coffee table where he’d left it. The half-finished presentation still awaited.

Leo sighed, stretching. "Right," he mumbled, pouring himself a mug of coffee. "Today, for sure. Absolutely no excuses this time."

He pulled out his phone. Just a quick check of the news…

Tomorrow, he promised himself, as the sun climbed higher, casting the same relentless glow on the still-closed laptop. Tomorrow. For sure.