I groped for my smartphone on the other side of the bed, guided only by the sound of the alarm. When it rang for the fifth time, I realized that I urgently needed to change it. Couldn't take that synthwave ringtone any longer, especially so early in the morning, when my mood was not at its best. And certainly that annoying gated reverb was not helping it at all. Was on the tenth or twelfth ring that I gave up trying to blindly reach it and finally turned myself to the phone. Took off my sleep mask, turned off the alarm and turned my face to the screen. I squinted my eyes at the very instant as the light emitted from it blurred my vision, mentally cursing on why the automatic brightness detection never works as it should. When my eyes managed to pierce through the light and reached the hours in the display, a sense of frustration immediately overwhelmed me. Again, I didn't hear the main alarm, which supposedly should have woken me up twenty minutes ago, nor the automatic nap function now ringing by the seventh time. Looking depressed at the roof of my bedroom, inevitably my thoughts were flooded with countless excuses to miss work, as they were every morning.
Should I get a sick note? Or maybe use one of my paid time off?
Always allowed myself those precious moments of daydreaming before getting up. But who do I want to deceive? Inevitably, I ended up getting real and giving up on any miraculous plan to miss work. Perhaps because it's more difficult to fake an illness and get a certificate. Maybe it is the fear of a boss reprimand. Or better yet, and possibly the truest assumption, that I just don't have anything better to do.
I don't know.
Still lying on the bed, I raised my eyes to the window, to one of the gaps uncovered by the shutter. Grayish as a cloudy morning, the rain hit the glass and trickled sinuously over the surface. I watched the drops clump together, under the effects of the routine morning despondency. Took another minute of laziness and finally built up the courage to start the day; or at least try. I pushed the blankets back and sat on the side of the bed, stretching my arms accompanied by a yawn. Looked down for the slippers, but then gave up when I realized that they could have ended under the bed. Barefoot, I got up and went to the washroom. The autonomous sensor picked up my movement and started the morning protocol. All the lights in the bedroom turn on simultaneously, adopting a dim and warm tone that did not harm my eyes as it gradually got used to the brightness. Of course I could schedule the house to wake me up at the appointed time; make the lights pop bright and play something loud enough to make the whole building shake. But that would mean waking me up on time. Besides, I am not very fond of technologies controlling every aspect of my life, as if microchips under my skin wasn't enough. No. Inside of my own house, I like to think I at least have some degree of control.
Self-controlled coffee machines are ok, though.
Already in the bathroom, I stared at my reflection in the mirror over the sink. With each day that I stared at myself, a feeling of apathy soon came over me; after all my newly awake face was certainly something that didn't cheer me up in the morning. Eight, ten, twelve hours... No matter how much I slept, the tiredness never leaves under my eyes, nor my bones. I opened the cabinet above the sink and for a few seconds scanned the shelves until I found the orange bottles of dexlansoprazole and escitalopram among many others, as I did every morning. After a sudden sneeze, I also decided to take an antihistamine. With the humidity at its highest, I had been attacked again by the damn rhinitis. Sniffing, I pop the cocktail of pills along with some tap water and took the opportunity to wash my face. Even though I did it every morning, I knew it wouldn't help keep me awake, either. As the water ran down my face, I put both hands on the boards of the sink and turned back to face the mirror. Took a few moments just listening to the water run down the pipes, thinking in absolutely nothing, before starting my boring routine.
