To wake, or not to wake; that is the first mistake

How deep is your love, how deep is youuur love- I need someone to shooow cause we’re living in a world of mmm keepin’ us down and we all shooo when I fee-”

That’s not how that song goes.

Wait, what time is it?

Please be before 3am, please be before 3am. Maybe if it’s still dark under the door then it means it’s still nighttime. Which means I can still sleep. But if there’s light, I’m fucked. But then maybe I’ll get up and-

My ex hated when I’d shoot upright in bed upon waking. But my ex wasn’t here anymore. The light under the door was, so a mild-to-moderate panic filled my insides instead of the space at my side. I reached over ungracefully to the side table, bumping a barely filled mug of who-knows-what, and turned the alarm clock.

6:18.

Ugh.

Someone should really research as to why I wake up right before my alarm. Every damn day. But maybe later, because I think I could manage to snooze longe-

“WHO LIVES IN A PINEAPPLE UNDER THE SEA? SPONGEBOB SQUARE PA-”

Who set this alarm? Who did this? Why am I so tired? Can I snooze? I can snooze.

What I later learned was that I indeed could not snooze. Because upon opening my eyes and bolting straight up in bed for the second time, I saw the blaring red digits telling me I was late. How did an hour go by so fast? It felt like I’d slept a whole day.

Wait. What day was it again?

Tuesday.

The job interview.

If the job interview was at 11:00, and I needed to shower and eat, how long would it take for me to have a meltdown?

Instead I got out of bed way too fast, scrambled partially-blindly for my glasses and proceeded to knock them off the side table and under the bed. Crap.

Bending down, I even more blindly tried to reach around for them before remembering it would be much easier doing this with the light on. But then I stood up too fast and got dizzy.

Once I got my bearings and turned on the lights, I ducked back to reach for my glasses and flung them backwards towards my feet. Missed.

And then the lens popped out. Oh for fucks sake!

But I could do this. I knew where my mini eyeglass kit was; this wasn’t the first time.

Dawning my pirate glasses on, I headed towards the kitchen to dig through the “important stuff” drawer. Well, it was more of a junk drawer, but everything in it was important. Like the eyeglass screwdriver. And a half pack of gum. And a smaller collection of barely functional lighters. And the house keys. How’d those get in there?

I pocketed my keys in my pj pants and grabbed the screwdriver. Did I have the screw? Heck no. Did I have backups? Heck yeah!

Digging around in the drawer I found the little tupperware container with all the extra screws and dumped it on the counter. Finding the right one, I put the lens back in place and screwed the frame tight. Then I looked up at the kitchen clock.

4:56.

That’s not right. Did it die? That’s okay, I had batteries in the drawer and quickly fished out two AA batteries and put them in my pocket. I dragged a chair under where the clock hung and climbed up.

Whoa- small heights. Forgot those made me nervous.

I took the clock down and reached into my pocket for the batteries but pulled up keys. Wrong pocket dumbass. Checking the other pocket, I quickly realized that I actually needed AAA batteries. I groaned, stepped down off the chair, and went to get the other ones.

After finally popping the right batteries in, and hanging the clock back up, I figured I should brush my teeth after feeling the morning breath curdle around my molars. Gross.

After speed-brushing, and trying to take off my pjs, I stumbled around toward the bedroom looking for the outfit I laid on the bed last night. At least I had planned ahead for once.

Except I must have kicked them off in my sleep and now they were crumpled on the damn floor.

Groan.

I picked up the outfit, shook it off, and dressed. What time was it?

Checking my phone, I saw I only had 37% battery. I forgot to plug it in, but it should last me. It was only- how was it already 9:48?!

I’d have to skip breakfast.

I ran back into the kitchen, double checked that I had everything in my bag. Thankfully my wallet was there too.

Opening the Transit app on my phone, I saw the bus I needed was arriving soon and convinced myself I could make it. Shoving my feet into shoes, I unbolted the door and reached into my pants pocket for the keys I put in there earlier.

Wait.

Shit, they were in the drawer! Racing back to the kitchen, wondering why there were screws everywhere, and dug through the fucking junk drawer. Nothing.

Pj pants! I dashed to my bedroom, finding them still on the bed, yanked the keys out, flung the pants like a flag and rushed back to the front door.

I quickly glanced at the clock for the time to see if I could make the bus.

4:56. What?!

I’d fix it later.

Once finally leaving the house, I ran to the bus stop, and arrived just in time as the bus was coming round the bend.

As it arrived and the doors swung open, and I thought about how lucky I was for once. Getting on, I scanned my phone to pay, and grabbed a seat in the back. I pulled my phone out of whichever damn pocket I stuffed it in and checked the time.

10:37

I’d make it.

Wait.

It’s Monday?!