Day 4 - the first Monday

A soft melodic tone trickles into my ear. I reach out a hand and, eyes closed, swipe it silent. My hand curls around the phone. My foot twitches. I'm a bit warm.

I pull the phone towards my face. My eyelids flutter, blink, squint. 7:00am. The text in the phone is insistent - "Wake up, mutha fucka!!!!"

I blink, I sigh ... I doze.

A harsh electronic beat pours into my ears. I reach out a hand and, eyes closed, swipe it silent. My hand curls around my phone. I bury my nose into my pillow.

"WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK" exclaims the silenced alarm. It is now 7:30am. A tentative sniff reveals my saving grace. There is premade coffee. Thank you, past me.

I pull on a pair of socks. I grip the railing as I teeter down my spiral staircase, brain half-asleep, eyes half-closed.

A few moments later, I'm slightly more awake, sipping my coffee with too much cream and staring in my mirror with displeasure.

"Christ. You're a hot mess." Another sip of coffee. Another glance into the mirror before walking into the bathroom.

I cast a defiant glance at the scale and step into the tub. Hair, body, face, lather, scrub, shave, rinse. Soak. Sigh.

I am loathe to leave the hot water, but lingering now will only make me late. I dry off. I return to the mirror and counter. Lotions and creams are applied. Hair is tamed.

7:52am. I could use some music.

In the bedroom, I tap my laptop to life. Without thinking I hit [Win]+[3]. Chrome launches, trading along are Facebook and Reddit. I begin mindlessly scrolling, chatting, clicking.

I glance at the system tray. 8:27am. Fuck what is wrong with me.

A flurry of paint and powder, camisoles and cardigans. Fifteen minutes later I'm scurrying back down the stairs with my now cold coffee.

Microwave appears dead. Damn. I pour the cold coffee into a travel mug, top it off with what remains in the carafe and another shake of lite creamer.

Shoes laced, jacket zipped, I grab my bag and keys and hustle out the door at 8:46am.

I know I can do better.