I love the feeling of the warm sun on my face in the morning. I can feel the vitamin D filling my soul. This is in my top 5 favourite things to do. Lying in my bed. Feeling the sun on my face. I have no curtains in my room so I am woken by the sun on a sunny morning. Mmmmm. I roll over, and I remember I should probably be somewhere at some point today. What day is it? What have I got to do today? Is it sunday??? Friday??? Or shit? It’s Saturday….. Oh no I’ve gotta go to work. I must have been really bad in my last life. Really really bad. I open one eye and pick up my phone. My mind slowly stumbles through the possibilities. Is it 9,7, 8….. no it’s 7.53am. It’s Saturday. Precisely 1 hour and 7mins to get to that place where that thing called work is. Perfect timing to run around like a headless chicken in a vain attempt to get to work on time. So as to continue with the tradition of Saturday morning mayhem. I wonder round my flat in a controlled falling manner. I stagger into the shower, and proceed to shower sleeping. If you’ve ever wondered if it’s possible it is. I stumble out of the shower, no towel. Where’s a towel? I pull one off the floor, and hope it don’t smell too bad. That’ll do. I sift through the chest of drawers of once ordered and neatly folded clothes which has quickly become a chaotic bundle of everything I own yet totally unwearable. So a black vest and not ever ironed trousers it is. I must be the most unkempt beauty therapist on the planet. Must be? I am.
I fly out of the door. Nope. Wheres my oyster? A girl’s necessities have progressed from keys, money, fags to keys, money, iPhone, oyster, watch, tweezers. There probably should be more stuff but I just don’t have the time. Where did I put my keys, oh fuck, fuck my life, fuck this shit, oh my under the cushion of course.
Will I ever get out of this house????? It’s like an assault course and mental agility test all rolled into one. 8.14am. Just get out of the here! I slam the door and make sure it’s closed for an OCD moment. Fuck it, rob my house. Shit the bus, I run for my life, as if for gold, as if(!)… That was my exercise for the day. I can’t fucking breath. How did I get the chest of an old emphysemic man????
Fuck fuck fuck this shiiiit…..