Monday Mourning

It’s 5Am and sleep has become a thing of the past. Through my open window I can see the mornings light glowing a rich orange behind the silhouette of trees.
I’m contemplating calling into the call center where I earn my paycheck and selling them the concept of the insomnia that has seemed to settle over me.
Plus how could I even consider taking on a shift that doesn’t even provide coffee.
Soon daybreak will be fully upon me and I can lie upon my mattress on the floor, and read until I figure what to do. Actually I could do with a sizey cup of the good stuff that the people in monkey suits won’t let us drink at the office.
The English accent of the singer of the band that is playing from my ten-dollar computer speakers is soothing.  It’s homely, like watching an old movie with a big bowl of popcorn, or snuggling up to a cute girl underneath the sheets. God knows that’s been a while. Too long if you ask me. And yesterday was fucking Valentine’s Day.
By the way I’m writing this on my cell phone as a series of txt messages I never plan on sending. Laying here in pajama pants and a Simpson’s duvet with the insides missing so it’s just the cover. The night was too hot for anything else. I haven’t had a winter in over a year, I swear on my life it’s killing me. I really hate the heat but always seem to end up in hot climates in the summer time.
Monday morning has grown pretty light out so I think I’m gonna stumble my way, (not unlike the living dead) to the 7/11 to pick up a pack of cigarettes, a doughnut and a coffee.
You know sometimes life doesn’t seem so bad.