I hate waking up and looking at the alarm clock, only to realize that inspite of not being an idiot, and knowing how to set it, you're late. I hate that I was clever enough to not change the time, and still set it for the appropriate hour, and it still didn't work. I hate that I vaguely remember it going off the first time, not wanting to wake yet, and hitting snooze. Thanks, Alarm Cock, that was one hell of a fucking snooze.
On the plus side, in all of the responsibility I've learned, I haven't lost the ability to get ready in 10 minutes.
Oh, piss on it, I'm still cranky.
2 comments:
Well, at least you were able to get up and going in time. :) I hate that feeling of waking up late, though. I hope you had a good day and that something made you not cranky.
And the thrill of trying to make up all that lost time...never knowing if your hair looks as bad in the back as it does in the front...hoping that quick shower is enough to wash off the bar smell from the night before...driving to work with one hand and applying mascara with the other, balancing a hot cup of coffee and some kind of drive-thru breakfast...now how can showing up at work on time possibly compare?
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