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Zombies Have It Better - Blog Posts

13 years ago

Fuck this morning

I wake up suddenly at 3 in the morning. There is no reason for it. My nose is running, my heart is racing faster and faster every minute and throat was making me cough like a horse. My allergies have caught me at the worst time as did something else. I was wide awake and confused.

I was so confused that if you were to open a page in my sketch pad and to smack me in the face with it, you would find my goofy face on that very page. Surely that page would go down in art for surrealism.

For hours I tossed and turned with my eyes closed, irratated and annoyed. My allergies were bothering me and the lack of sleep was following behind it. My alarm clock on both my phone and radio went off. Waking me up, both were silenced.

Around 5:23 I found how fed up I was and I headed downstairs to pump myself with meds, by 6 I hoped to be completely medicated to the point of no return.

While navigating through darkness of my house I noticed the lack of a certain smell. The coffee pot wasn't on, though the timer was set to start ten minutes earlier. Only later would I find out what was actually happening. I took two allegra d and went back to tossing and turning for a few more hours.

I was awaking and wishing that either my house was hit by an atom bomb or that I could go back to the point where I was told by this lovely dame to take allergy medicine before I went to bed. Should have listened to her, but I was being stubborn for some reason that day.

It was like clock work, it would squirm around under my covers then my phone's alarm would go off. Torture on a mental scale. I didn't know whether to get up and get an early start on my day or to keep myself in bed until 6:19. I did the latter of the two.

When it was time to get up I wasn't in the right mood, I'm still not in a good mood. I got dressed and went downstairs to drinking a cup of black coffee. Strong and bitter, set my ass straight with a cup or two. Another horrible part of my morning was right there again. The coffee pot, to my dismay wasn't emitting that smell I love to be greeted by every morning. I turn on the kitchen light to see what was wrong. The counter was swamped in a brown water, the the lid to the filter was partially open, the coffee pot wasn't filled all the way but only to the two cups mark.

When I opened the lid to the filter I seen that something had made the coffee maker explode, sending bits of wet coffee grinds and about 10 cups worth of water on to the counter and all over the coffee pot itself. It was a horror.

If, one day, I were to wake up one day to my car demolished, my cats set ablazed, my dogs being used as horses by gnomes and all of my books turned into mulch. Coffee would probably be the only thing that would keep me from breaking down and destroying everything I can before the police taser me down.

Luckily, the coffee pot had some coffee in it. I had two cups of black dirt grind to keep me tethered to my sanity but it wouldn't keep my mood leveled out. Sadly it's going to take a lot more to make me feel better.

I look in the mirror, my eyes looked like they were punched out. It added to how shitty I felt. On the drive to school I thought over my entire morning and remembered- the day has just started. If I get another ounce of bad news then fuck me..


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