optimism

your alarm clock rings at 7.30am, you hit the snooze faster than you can think "shit, its time to get up", faster than the time it takes for you to drift back into slumber, back into whatever dream you were dreaming, or lack of a dream you werent dreaming. and before long it wakes you up again, and you hit snooze again. the third time the clock does it you open one eye, and peek through the curtains a grey ominous sky that looks as if it is about to unleash unforgiving rain. you realise at this point you cant roll back into bed because you already hit snooze thrice. you curse into the pillow with "fuck." if you dont get up now, youll be late for work/school.

you stumble into the washroom, relieve yourself and freshen up and before you leave the toilet you take a look at your reflection in the mirror that hasnt been cleaned in ages. you encounter a visage upon which there is neither relief nor freshness.

you take off your comfortable pajamas and put on garb that is much less so. the shirt looks good to you only because you think other people might think so. you slip on shoes that match. its starting to drizzle; you grab some newspaper.

you hop on the bicycle and its harder than ever to pedal. you cannot drop into a lower gear because the derailleur is stuck. its raining now, your newspaper is wet and your nice shoes are soaking. your hair is in your face. youre thinking to yourself "this is my life." and the stars respond by sending a black mercedes whizzing past you, emptying a curbside puddle of muddy rainwater onto your left side. you want to cycle faster but you cant; each push is harder than the previous because the road ahead is ramping uphill. you cant tell if the water running down your face is mud or rain or tears. you feel cold.

then you wake up and touch your cheeks; they are wet. it is 7.25 am. it is saturday. the sun is peeking through the curtains. on your phone there are unread messages from your friends saying good morning. you smell pancakes. you feel warm. you touch your cheeks and they are wet not by mud or by rain; for sure they must be tears.

what kind? doesnt matter, all you know is that you can roll back into bed.