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The feeling of immense tiredness, light like lazerbeams trying to pierce my brain through my eyes, amazingly ugly (yet comfortable) clothes, and a need for silence that will not be fulfilled, this is definitely a Sunday to remember.
I feel like a caricature of a hung over person, and I hate it. The day started with an intense need for water at 7am. Then the bells started chiming at 9.30 telling me to get up. At 10.20 I was in the shower. This stage I choose to call the "ggllaaawbwl"-stage because that is about as much sense anyone can get out of me at that time, including myself which led to my putting my deodorant in the refrigerator and almost brushing my teeth with my neighbors tooth-brush.
The next stage ensues after a bit of food and drink has been consumed. I call this stage the "I hate my life and everything in it, especially my work"-stage because my irritation and general bad-feelingness often results in these frustrations. I got on the subway and down to my work where the dreaded stage three ensued. I call it the paranoia-stage. Moving towards my job, I realized that the coffee-shop next to my store seemed to be open, and they do not open till 12 on Sundays. Thus, my reaction was to slowly bus surely realize that it could very well be 12.30 and not 11.30, and I might have lost an hour to something, or looked at my watch wrong. "Oh, God I'm gonna be fired for failing to open up the store" I thought running inside and realizing that of course I had not lost an hour, and I was right on time. Next paranoia attack: Maybe there's someone in the store. My lack of eyesight due to immense drinkage yesterday made it seem like someone was walking at the back end of the store, and it sounded like it as well. Maybe I'm not alone...which, of course I was.
The aftermath of this naturally led to stage four: the stage of apathy. I cannot be bothered to get up to vacuum the store, I cannot be bothered to clean behind the counter, I am just going to sit here and shake a bit, staring at this way to bright screen until the feeling of badness goes away.
I feel like a caricature of a hung over person, and I hate it. The day started with an intense need for water at 7am. Then the bells started chiming at 9.30 telling me to get up. At 10.20 I was in the shower. This stage I choose to call the "ggllaaawbwl"-stage because that is about as much sense anyone can get out of me at that time, including myself which led to my putting my deodorant in the refrigerator and almost brushing my teeth with my neighbors tooth-brush.
The next stage ensues after a bit of food and drink has been consumed. I call this stage the "I hate my life and everything in it, especially my work"-stage because my irritation and general bad-feelingness often results in these frustrations. I got on the subway and down to my work where the dreaded stage three ensued. I call it the paranoia-stage. Moving towards my job, I realized that the coffee-shop next to my store seemed to be open, and they do not open till 12 on Sundays. Thus, my reaction was to slowly bus surely realize that it could very well be 12.30 and not 11.30, and I might have lost an hour to something, or looked at my watch wrong. "Oh, God I'm gonna be fired for failing to open up the store" I thought running inside and realizing that of course I had not lost an hour, and I was right on time. Next paranoia attack: Maybe there's someone in the store. My lack of eyesight due to immense drinkage yesterday made it seem like someone was walking at the back end of the store, and it sounded like it as well. Maybe I'm not alone...which, of course I was.
The aftermath of this naturally led to stage four: the stage of apathy. I cannot be bothered to get up to vacuum the store, I cannot be bothered to clean behind the counter, I am just going to sit here and shake a bit, staring at this way to bright screen until the feeling of badness goes away.