I woke up this morning a few minutes before the alarm like I often do. Even though I made the sound not terribly irritating, I still don't like to hear it... probably moreso due to what it means. My time is no longer my own. That first 5 minutes I'm awake I'm still in bed and my thoughts are racing. Sometimes I have to talk myself up to my feet as I just want to return to sleep. Today when I was in this state, I did not want to get up. Why should I? I was so comfortable. I just knew I could fall back asleep in less than 2 minutes. Maybe I have too much Peter Gibbons in me. It took a little more than the usual 5 minutes to collect myself and actually get up. I finally convinced myself to do it by reminding myself it was Friday. Just one more day to get through. You can do it. By this evening you'll be thrilled as it'll be the dawn of a 3-day weekend.
That whole Friday spiel finally did it but it was such a struggle to get up and get the day rolling. It made me wonder, if that barely worked how in the hell do I get up on Mondays? Or any other workday. My soul tries to tell me that life shouldn't be like this but how else could it be? I have no choice. Bills got to be paid, food has to be bought. Why does my soul feel this way? Have I been somewhere before? Who have I been? Where have I been? I tend to not believe in things like past lives, reincarnation and things like that but then where does this conflict come from? Why do I desire so much to be free? Well, at least I have a long weekend to think about it.
