The Disease of Comfort

I woke up late today.

Two reasons: 

1. my body needed rest, and 

2. I stayed up past 1 a.m. supporting my friend in his first boxing match.

Two things that, on any other day, I’d feel perfectly fine about.

Yet this morning, I woke up angry at myself, frustrated for “sleeping half the day away,” as if I’d failed some imaginary standard.