Take the goofy photos. Someday they’re proof that you actually lived through these years.

The photographs that turn out to matter are almost never the composed ones. They are the badly lit, unflattering, nothing-happening pictures, because those hold what a period actually looked like instead of how you wanted it to look. Your future self has no interest whatsoever in your angles.

Take the stupid picture, keep the blurry one, and get into the frame instead of always holding the camera. Print a couple, since files disappear more easily than paper does. In ten years these are the only evidence that any of it happened.