It all started with the act of waking up. There was some stretching, then there was some becoming aware of one’s surroundings. Once aware., there was plenty of lying in bed, doing very little and doing one’s best to move as little as possible. It was a good start to the morning; or at least, it would have been had it not been too early a waking up.
The sun was yet to rise, though it was getting there. Attempts to get back to sleep were made, but of course they were futile as it was all too easy to become aware and alert and out of a sleepy phase, and so there was the lying in bed for a while, being alert and aware, though hoping that would all fade away and some more rest would be gained. Of course, it was not to be and there were other things afoot, such as the being awake and the encroaching knowing of having to be awake all day whilst feeling overly fatigued. Such was the way of things and such was the way that it was going to be all day.
Eventually there was the decision to get up, for there was little else to do at that present time. Perhaps read a book. Not entirely sure; getting up was the first priority. If one could get up, then one could do things. Getting up was, of course, the easy part, not that any of it was difficult, but being tired certainly made things feel more so.
There seemed little to do after rising and so, in the rising of the waking sun the kitchen seemed like a good destination to go toward. Caffeine was available there and perhaps that would help with shaking off the fatigue that so encrusted their being and their very soul.
Unfortunately coffee was not instant and whilst that was often an appreciated thing, in this instance the desire was to feel awake sooner rather than later and so having to wait for the water to boil, the french press to be filled and for the coffee to be ready seemed to stretch for some sort of unmitigated eternity.
Of course the wait was not that long, but these things have a habit of making themselves feel so and when you’re feeling impatient, of course things that take a little bit of time will seem to take far more than they actually do.
And so the wait began and it was over in a much shorter period than expected (as is the way of these things). Poured into a cup, it was still too hot to drink, but perhaps in a few more minutes it would be ready to go.
They carried the coffee back to the bedroom and placed it on their work desk, which was a desk where typically they would work. They then moved a large pile of clothes from their chair and onto their bed, then sat on their chair. They turned on their computer and hoped that somehow they’d find the right piece of music for the morning. Something to signify the waking up of the earth and the dawning of a new day.
Of course there was nothing quite there; not anything that could be played aloud at least. Instead some sort of lukewarm ambience was picked and, after enough minutes passing, settled itself as the mood setter for the morning.
The coffee seemed cool enough and so it was consumed through failed attempts at pacing out the drinking. Small, frequent sips took over and the coffee, despite its heat, lasted less time than it took to make.
Hoping to get some form of writing done, they opened up a blank document and started placing down words in the hopes that some sort of pattern revealed itself. Many minutes of sitting there, passing the time and hoping for the best passed. Then it was many minutes of hoping for something. Words came out and sentences formed, but there was no seeming meaning or intent beyond the act of trying to find something that would work.
It seemed as though at the very least the morning was going to be unproductive. Sure, it was still before the sun had fully risen, but there was only a few minutes until that event had passed its peak and the ingested caffeine was not doing much to help. Sure, it was keeping them feeling a sense of being awake, but they wanted to feel fully awake, which was not something they were going to be able to gain from what they had.
Perhaps they were writing the day off too early – which they were – but that is what it was already feeling like. This was not something they could not surmount, and in fact had surmounted many a time. However, the desire to get that little bit more sleep was weighing a little too much on their mind and so they let it take over their thoughts and put them into a position of feeling ill-fated and dreading. Still, at least the coffee was nice.
There was no particularly awe-inspiring light show outside, but the sunrise remained pleasant nonetheless. Had they sat on their front patio instead of inside in their room, whilst not seeing all of it, they would have seen much more. Perhaps that would have been enough to help them feel a little more optimistic about the day ahead, which eventually they would. However, in sitting in a room without the greatest amount of light, they instead followed a different path through the day and so had a different colouring to everything. It led to the creation of different things and on the plus side those things were reached sooner rather than later. However, they still silently bemoaned their fate for those first few hours, letting their fatigue drag them a little more than they’d normally allow and thus shaping how they wrote, though of course it could’ve been worse.
The time it took to write one thousand words: 15:48:31
Partially based on my waking up earlier this morning than I’d hoped.
As always I want to spend more time working on fiction. At the moment I’m going to try and push that a bit more and see where it takes me.
Regarding this bit of writing, it’s rather plain, which was part of the intent, but I don’t think it produced the result I was looking for.
Written at home.
Stupidity Hole 