At 6:00am every day when my alarm goes off for the first time, I cry inside and then blindly take my frustration out on my poor phone as I suffocate the noise by stuffing it under my pillowcase (too much effort to open my eyes and you know... turn it off) or hitting it repeatedly against my mattress.
It sucks, because I don't even get up for another hour. It's just that I like to torture myself by making irrational decisions every night such as, oh of course I can wake up at 6, make some coffee, answer some emails, clean my room, and save the world. Every night I fool myself. Every morning I hate myself.
I mentioned the other day that I recently started a new gig, which is fine and dandy (VERY fine and dandy in fact because my overpriced coffee addiction is not funding itself, and also because I'm minorly obsessed with everything about my company) – mental note that I need to share more with you in due time – but the ONE thing I don't think I can ever make peace with is that Monday through Friday, my days look almost exactly the same.
I miss college where one day we could drive to the next town for boba, and the following day we could nap two hours after waking up and then spend the afternoon hammocking or doing something equally as productive. Spontaneity! No planning ahead! Footloose and fancy free!