The sound of crows breaks through the silence of the warm, muggy morning. The sun has barely risen and yet the blue-black birds outside have decided to announce their arrival with loud shrieks, as if their lives depended on it. Sometimes I hate mornings. They remind me that the joy of waking from a dreamless night must be akin to being awaken from the dead.
Rubbing my eyes, I stare at the ceiling and take a deep breath in resignation that my day is beginning and I must rise to meet it. I pray for five more minutes in bed. I take a pause at every motion, every breath trying to stall time from moving forward. It doesn’t work… It never works.
I can already feel the moist heat of the day, even though the AC is running at full strength and has been for days. It’s been a hot summer so far and my AC bills are showing it.
My shower is cold and my drug of choice is caffeine. It seems to be the only thing that makes mornings bearable, giving me the energy to move forward to face the daily grind. Ode to caffiene. How I love thee.
