I have become (to my dismay) a morning person. The kind who goes to sleep at 10P.M. and wakes up at 7fuckingA.M. Every day I curse the day my shift changed.I would get out of my house in a zombie-like stupor, I am greeted by the abnormally bright morning sun.
I fight the urge to run back into my dark room and sleep on my warm bed.
I would wait patiently for a ride to our office, not quite fully awake and braving the nightmare that is Rush Hour. After reaching for my stop, I make my way into the office by walking for 10 minutes, it always amazes me that I somehow made it without killing myself by dozing-off while crossing the busy street.
I would fall into a trance while walking, and most often, I would talk quietly to myself. But, only in my head. Lest I would be mistaken for a nut in chucks. In my head, I would laugh at myself. It must be quite a spectacle to see a walking zombie in the heart of Ortigas.
I would work up a sweat which annoys me to no end. Already my day is ruined.
The sun is always blinding. I would squint my eyes almost shut and trying to make sense why people are awake at this god-forsaken hour.
Why are they smiling at this hour?! What's so funny? Why are they so fucking cheerful?!
Have you ever had the feeling where everything seems to be happening so fast but meanwhile, you feel like you are stuck in a eternally dragging, slow-motion pace?
Not too much caffeine I guess. I arrive at the office, finally. I makes a bee-line to the nearest vending machine. Coffee equates to bliss.
I was so proud when I said before that I have never seen what 8A.M. in the morning looks like in a long time. Now I see it everyday. It's not a pretty sight.
I will never get the hang of this waking up early thing,
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