Wednesday is the night to go out at UF. Everyone knows it. Midtown starts filling up before the sun even sets. People squeeze into crop tops and jeans, pregaming like it’s already the weekend. Luckily, I don’t have class on Thursdays. My schedule is Monday, Wednesday and Friday. This means Thursdays have become this strange, beautiful pocket of nothingness. I started calling it my “Day Between Days” because that’s exactly what it is: a chance to recover from the day before and prepare for the day coming. It’s the bridge between the wildness of Wednesday and the last stretch into the weekend. It’s the breath I take before everything speeds up again.
On Thursdays, I rot in the most loving way possible. I wake up late, sometimes past noon and stay in bed for a while just because I can. I don’t set an alarm. I don’t check my calendar. I scroll on my phone until my brain feels like mashed potatoes, and then I shuffle into the kitchen and eat whatever I can find. Usually, it’s something a little heinous like cold pizza or cereal with honey. Not milk. Just honey.
I wear the same hoodie I’ve worn a hundred times. Hair unbrushed. Face unwashed. The vibe is that of an emotionally unavailable woodland creature. I don’t talk to anyone unless I have to, and I absolutely do not go outside unless the weather is freakishly perfect. I find myself very out of breath on my Day Between Days. Physical or mental exertion is a no.
Sometimes, I rewatch shows I’ve already memorized. I like New Girl, Fleabag and the Gilmore Girls episode where Rory has a breakdown about not knowing what to do with her life. Sometimes, I start a new show like Adolescence or Temptation Island (highly recommend). Other times, I do absolutely nothing. Just lay there, existing, letting my thoughts wander to strange places. Like whether the orchid in my room is actually dying or just being dramatic. Whether I should wash my sheets or let them live to see another week. Is it normal to feel so tired all the time, even when nothing technically happened? Sometimes, I’ll scroll through my camera roll and feel weirdly nostalgic about things that weren’t that long ago, like a blurry photo of my friend eating Taco Bell or a Snapchat memory from last semester that feels like it happened in another lifetime. Time feels weird on Thursdays. It slows down just enough for everything to settle.
It’s not a day I plan or curate. It just happens. And that’s the point.
The Day Between Days isn’t about being productive or resting efficiently or romanticizing your laziness with an aesthetic TikTok vlog. It’s about letting yourself be gross and still and unremarkable. It’s about stepping out of the constant motion and noise, not because you’ve earned it but because you need it. I think everyone deserves a day like that. A day where nothing is expected of you. A day without goals or pressure or even vibes. Just a pause. A reset. A moment to remind yourself that being a person is hard sometimes, and it’s okay to do nothing about it for a little while.
It’s the Day Between Days, and it saves me every week.