I’M AWAKE!!!


 

AWAKE!!!  And have been since quarter to six.  IN THE MORNING.  I’m flabbergasted.  I’m hurt.  I’m wondering which fuckwit sleep fairy in the sky messed up the sleepy dust sprinkles.  I am sure there is, RIGHT NOW, as we speak, some incredibly potent power-dressing kick ass career woman – this woman who has never been less than bright-eyed and bushy-tailed by 6am – who is now in bed, sleeping, drooling a little into the right side of her pillow.

Here I am, thinking, shit! I have enough trouble finding suitable activities to get me through my 10am-10pm day without the added stress of 6am wide-awakeness.

I am, of course, not pissed off really.  Who cares if I’m awake a little earlier than I need to be?  Just don’t expect to find me brewing coffee whilst whistling and opening the pages of a crease-free broadsheet.  That ain’t me, babe.

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