Been having a lot of trouble getting out of bed lately.
Coming close to 26, it's probably age catching up on me. On working days I leave everything until the last minute, hammering the snooze button like it made a joke about my mother. I lie there, thinking about exactly how much time it would take to have a shower. Trying to visualise where my black shoes are, and if I could tie them while barreling down the stairs, and how I can get another four minutes in bed if I'm willing to have my coffee by shoving a spoonful of granules into my mouth and necking the hot water. I've not been late for work yet, never have been (Only once since leaving college, kinda proud of that.) but I'm coming dangerously close.
That's on days I'm working, mind. On days off, it's an entirely different matter. Days off are getting ridiculous. Days off, my alarm goes off around 7.30. I snooze for an hour, turn my alarm off altogether, get up, boil the kettle, fall asleep again and finally get up around twelve or one. This, for someone reared on a farm, is unforgivable. The last day I had off I didn't even put on trousers until after four o'clock.
I try to do better. I set the heating to come on so over the covers doesn't seem so arctic compared to under. I put my phone on the other side of the room so I'm forced out of bed to turn it off.
But all that changes tomorrow. Tomorrow, Thursday December 1st, I'm off. But I've a secret weapon.
I've an APPOINTMENT. Oh yes. A big swingin' appointment. Okay, it's just with some bird who rang me from the bank. Probably wants to sell me another credit card or pat me on the back for steering clear of my overdraft this long but it doesn't matter. Tomorrow I have a reason to get out of bed.
Tomorrow I have a purpose. And once the purpose is done I'll probably go back to bed. It's fucking cold out, like.
Coming close to 26, it's probably age catching up on me. On working days I leave everything until the last minute, hammering the snooze button like it made a joke about my mother. I lie there, thinking about exactly how much time it would take to have a shower. Trying to visualise where my black shoes are, and if I could tie them while barreling down the stairs, and how I can get another four minutes in bed if I'm willing to have my coffee by shoving a spoonful of granules into my mouth and necking the hot water. I've not been late for work yet, never have been (Only once since leaving college, kinda proud of that.) but I'm coming dangerously close.
That's on days I'm working, mind. On days off, it's an entirely different matter. Days off are getting ridiculous. Days off, my alarm goes off around 7.30. I snooze for an hour, turn my alarm off altogether, get up, boil the kettle, fall asleep again and finally get up around twelve or one. This, for someone reared on a farm, is unforgivable. The last day I had off I didn't even put on trousers until after four o'clock.
I try to do better. I set the heating to come on so over the covers doesn't seem so arctic compared to under. I put my phone on the other side of the room so I'm forced out of bed to turn it off.
But all that changes tomorrow. Tomorrow, Thursday December 1st, I'm off. But I've a secret weapon.
I've an APPOINTMENT. Oh yes. A big swingin' appointment. Okay, it's just with some bird who rang me from the bank. Probably wants to sell me another credit card or pat me on the back for steering clear of my overdraft this long but it doesn't matter. Tomorrow I have a reason to get out of bed.
Tomorrow I have a purpose. And once the purpose is done I'll probably go back to bed. It's fucking cold out, like.
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