A Rose a Day Keeps the Heartbreak Away

1 | Curiosity

"Give me a sign, hit me baby one more time"

~ ...Baby One More Time (...Baby One More Time)

I hate Monday mornings. Actually, that's an understatement; I hate mornings in general. So why am I up by seven every morning? Yeah, I don't know. I guess my thought process when choosing my nine a.m. shift at the firm was that I could be home early. I don't know, I always end up cursing myself in the morning when my usual alarm blares through my room.

Here's the thing, I usually wake up looking like a drowned rat that air-dried overnight. And I drool. Plus, there are usually some birds that chirp near my window or beautiful sunlight that peeks through my shields nearly every morning. I mean, come on, it can't get worse; here I am looking like a character from The Walking Dead and nature's looking as beautiful as always. It's truly a sad comparison if I can even call it that.

The only part of my mornings that I enjoy is coffee and a butter croissant. They are the only reasons I get up every morning. Well, my dog and my job, too, but coffee is almost always the first thing on my mind when I wake up. I usually get my coffee and croissant from Starbucks, because it forces me to wake up earlier. This way I can get to work on time because I am notorious for being late. Also, I'm basic, what can I say?

Speaking of my dog, he usually wakes me up by either farting and engulfing my senses in a smell so bad, it kills my nose hairs or he just lays on me until his heavy Great Dane weight wakes me up. Take today, for example, I can already feel him using me as his personal mattress even though there's more than enough space for the both of us on my King size bed, which, by the way, I bought because of him.

I let out a loud groan, feeling the sunlight trying to pierce through my eyelids. I slowly opened my eyes, moving my head to avoid the light. I proceeded to look down at Klein. His dark gray fur covered body was freely spread out, one half on me and the other half on the bed.

I lightly poked him on his shoulder and called, "Klein, you're squishing me."

Almost immediately, his head shot up and he turned to glance at me with his brown eyes. This is usually the moment when I feel terrible for waking him up. Then I remember his rude farting way of getting me up on other days and the feeling goes away.

"Hey, buddy," I cooed, scratching under his chin. He lifted his weight off of me and licked my right cheek. He stood on the bed, towering over me. I stared at him as his tail wagged and he panted while staring back at me. I could tell he was excited about breakfast. He will actually stare me down until I blink and get up to get him his food. I know this because he's done it before. He's the only one to ever defeat me in a staring challenge and honestly, I don't whether to be a proud parent or a sore loser.

Finally, I pushed myself off the bed and put my slippers on. I quickly washed my face in the restroom to wake myself up as much as I can.

Klein followed me everywhere until I got to the kitchen and fixed him his breakfast; he proudly left me behind then. While he was eating, I took a shower and got dressed. I twisted my hair into a bun and then laid my edges. No, I'm just kidding, I don't even know what that really means. Plus, I'm way too lazy when it comes to getting ready, even the bun was my version of doing the most.

When Klein was fully finished with his breakfast, I grabbed my necessities for work and walked out with Klein to my car. I dropped him off at my parents' as I always do. My dad usually walks him and my mom pets him afterward for hours. It's hard to say who he prefers since he loves to walk and to be petted. What's most important is that he loves me and recognizes I'm his mother. Period. No one else in his life really matters.