I thought I was the only one that lost the Monday morning battles. It’s like YouTube “daily routine” videos, except a lot less glamorous and a million times more honest.
BZZZ. BZZZZZ. BZZZZZ.
The day was March 16. The alarm clock was buzzing. The alarm was set for 8:00 am. School starts at 8:50 am. Despite all of this, I woke up at 8:25 am.
10 minutes before this, my body was strewn across my bed in a very awkward position. The blanket was thrown down onto the floor. My face was pressed face-down into my pillow and I was drooling. This was the condition of my room when my mom walked in. The sight was terribly shocking, at least for her. After she had recomposed herself, she calmly walked up to my bed, stood there for a minute or so, and smacked me.
It took me a full minute for me to register the fact that I was smacked, thirty seconds to fully awaken myself, and thirty seconds to respond. At first, I just stared at my mom. Then…
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