Her eyelids heavy, her brain fogged by sleep, yet the sun persistent in waking her. Aided and abetted by her father, who made his entrance slightly less painful by the presence of a soothing cup of tea.
The morning seemed to pass in a sleep-fogged blur. Clothes, keys, purse, waking the toddler in the room next door. The hurry for the car seemed slower, drowsiness becoming the unpassable hurdle.
Car ride. Nursery. And then a choice - sleepy on the bus, or walking, and a chance to wake up, loud screamo blasting her ears so she had no choice but to stay awake? She chose to be sensible, she chose to have My Chemical Romance accompany her for the walk.
Arrive at work. Clock in. Yawn. Serve. Yawn again.
And the morning disappears before alertness comes, it's passing only acknowledged by the pressures of work fighting the urge to sleep.
Late lunch, and the sleepiness lifts, thanks to the effects of copious amounts of haribo and chocolate chip cookies consumed. And she's finally ready for the day that's almost passed.
The next two hours pass in a blaze of laughs, jokes and teasing, work and a sugar high. Leaving the building, she realises her uniform is finally starting to die, after five years together. She walks out of the building, planning the next hour in her head, when she sees her friend Lizzy, hanging out of a car window. They talk, they laugh, but neither can stay for long.
Uniform bought, a sneaky blu-ray, then over to nursery to pick up an exhausted boy. Home, tea, conversation with the Godfather, bath, bed ... and finally she has the time to rest. And suddenly ... she doesn't know what to do with herself.
Yeah, I'm feeling it today. And I just agreed to make this week a 6-shift week. Go me!
I love you :) x
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