The countless hours of sleep make me feel as if I have never slept at all. I wake up with sandy eyes and aching muscles, broken as a dish after hitting cement. My mind wanders, stretching into the breaking of my sleep, into the cracks and caves of my daily routine, into the canyon of my life plans. Sliding my feet over the covers and to the edge of my bed, I prop myself up, examining the familiar clock and familiar time.

11:55 AM

I turn to the window, which holds the comforting view of a building that has a view of a lakeside apartment complex. I was always envious of the people who live there, though, I never bothered to see the monthly rates. My hourly wage of borrowingmoneyfromdad , and yearly salary of whateverthefuck doesn’t allow much wiggle room.

Yet, I can’t complain. The roof above me keeps me dry and the (unhealthy) food in my fridge keeps me full.

For a quarter second, I consider getting a job.

A fleeting thought that only lasts between blinks.