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The alarm clock forced me into consciousness and I, in turn, forced the alarm clock against the wall. The chaotic sensation of not-quite-awake traveled throughout my body until I hopped in my shower and contemplated the significance and profundity of things that were really just minuscule. I got out and kneeled on the floor, my towel holding in my heat and keeping out the dangers of air upon my still-moist body; water droplets ran down my front and legs, and similarly, even more thoughts ran through my head.

I forced myself out of my imagination and back into the bathroom, finally drying up and doing all those boring, necessary bathroom things: cologne, hair wax, toothbrush, comb, monotony. By the time my a** was placed over my chair in the dining room, the cereal was soggy and the milk already a murky blue from the cleverly marketed Lucky Charms. They possessed a supposedly magical quality in which the blue marshmallows could bend physics and chemistry to turn my morning from ordinary to childish.

And then I was out the door and in the real world, where blue milk is batsh*t insane. The real world where no man talks about what he thought about in the shower. The real world where things really aren’t that real. My car pulled out and the speedometer went from zero to forty-five much too fast for my mother to be proud. My beautiful school shone as I neared the parking lot, and there was a subtle optimism that told me things were alright and that today was going to be a good day.

I then realized that I’d left my house keys at home and that the real world was s***, even though all my problems were my own fault.

Happy Monday





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