Sometimes, when I wake up in the morning, I can sit straight up, five minutes before the alarm goes off. Hop out of bed, maybe spring is the right word, and go brush my teeth. I comb my hair or take a shower, make my coffee, drink a glass of water. Feed the cat. If there is a boyfriend in my bed (there isn't) at this point I pounce him, giggles abound. After getting shrugged off by the cranky not-so-morning-type-person-boyfriend I drink my coffee, read the news, check my favorite blogs and read my email. I pet Delores for a while so she feels cared for. I turn off all the lights my roommates may have left on the night before. I let the dog out, and then let her back in. If time permits, I will often make breakfast and do the dishes. Then I drive to work.
This is not one of those mornings. When I woke up my heart was beating so hard and fast that I thought my body would vibrate apart. I could barely hit the snooze the four times that I used every ounce of my vibrating being to stretch my arm out and slap that god forsaken clock. I'm nauseous. My eyes keep watering. I cannot forget the dream I had last night that involved tiny bugs living in my teeth. I cannot cannot cannot stop shaking. I'm skipping coffee and breakfast this morning. There are things growing in my stomach I'm sure. Little monsters. I never used to feel like this in the morning. From what I gather, this is how most people start the day. I'm not quite accustomed to it as of yet. I suppose I better get accustomed to it.
This is pretty asinine isn't it?
I don't know what's worse; that I wrote this all of the way through, or that you read this all of the way through.
Fuck you, I think.