Today was one of those days when getting out of bed seems like a terrible idea. In my head, staying in bed for a few extra minutes doesn’t make me late for work or rushed to get ready (I was in fact not rushed this morning or late for work… thanks, temporary roommate!). No, staying in bed for a few minutes stops time. The day can’t begin until you take those sheets off and stumble to the floor.
Maybe if I thought more logically in that waking up haze, I would realize how ridiculous that is. Oh well. It’s nice to pretend that the day can’t start until you want it to.