Weekends are so good, yet so bad in that they completely mess up your sleeping cycle. You wake up late, take extra naps, lounge around, and then by the time you actually need to sleep, you're wide awake. On Saturday it's fine, but on a Sunday night I usually start to worry about how I'll be so tired the next day at work, on top of the fact that I really don't want to go to work in the first place.
Today was off to a pretty bad start. When the alarm woke me up, I was momentarily confused because I'd thought it was a Sunday. I was about to turn the alarm off and go back to sleep in peace, when I realized that no, my precious weekend was actually over and I had to get up. Christ. Honestly, it would have been better if I just knew it was a Monday from the start. It just made me feel extra grumpy, when I was the stupid one who didn't know which day it was today.
I decided I'd keep to a light lunch, since the day before, all three of my meals consisted of the unhealthiest foods ever (instant noodles for breakfast and dinner, pizza, cookies etc.) and I wanted to start afresh this week by going healthy again. So I stopped by Paris Baguette on my way to work and bought a cranberry chicken salad. Then I arrived at work, said good morning to my colleagues, and was about to walk to my desk when suddenly my side felt unusually empty. Meaning my bag wasn't where it was supposed to be; it was missing. Gone. I patted myself down, which was another stupid thing to do, because why the hell would my bag be hiding under my pants? I racked my brains to try and remember what happened. I couldn't remember my bag slipping from my shoulders or anything, which usually happens when I'm crammed inside the subway each morning. My wallet was safe in my pocket - I don't leave it in my bag because it's annoying to take it out when I commute to work.
My colleagues suggested I hurry back to Paris Baguette to check if I left it on the counter. I was pretty sure that wasn't the case because I didn't touch my bag to pay for the salad, but just to be on the safe side I walked back and confirmed that my bag wasn't there. I returned to the office, and suddenly realized that I hadn't had any memories of my bag that morning. My bag usually bothers me some way or another on the subway because I'm up against so many people, but strangely I felt none of that today.
Then it suddenly came to me... My heart sinking, I called my dad back at home and asked if my bag was in the living room. And sure enough, I'd left it wide and open, all packed and ready, and completely forgot about it when I left the house. And I didn't even realize it until I arrived at work. How idiotic is that? What's wrong with me? I blame it on Monday. I need to take a nap after lunch.
Today was off to a pretty bad start. When the alarm woke me up, I was momentarily confused because I'd thought it was a Sunday. I was about to turn the alarm off and go back to sleep in peace, when I realized that no, my precious weekend was actually over and I had to get up. Christ. Honestly, it would have been better if I just knew it was a Monday from the start. It just made me feel extra grumpy, when I was the stupid one who didn't know which day it was today.
I decided I'd keep to a light lunch, since the day before, all three of my meals consisted of the unhealthiest foods ever (instant noodles for breakfast and dinner, pizza, cookies etc.) and I wanted to start afresh this week by going healthy again. So I stopped by Paris Baguette on my way to work and bought a cranberry chicken salad. Then I arrived at work, said good morning to my colleagues, and was about to walk to my desk when suddenly my side felt unusually empty. Meaning my bag wasn't where it was supposed to be; it was missing. Gone. I patted myself down, which was another stupid thing to do, because why the hell would my bag be hiding under my pants? I racked my brains to try and remember what happened. I couldn't remember my bag slipping from my shoulders or anything, which usually happens when I'm crammed inside the subway each morning. My wallet was safe in my pocket - I don't leave it in my bag because it's annoying to take it out when I commute to work.
My colleagues suggested I hurry back to Paris Baguette to check if I left it on the counter. I was pretty sure that wasn't the case because I didn't touch my bag to pay for the salad, but just to be on the safe side I walked back and confirmed that my bag wasn't there. I returned to the office, and suddenly realized that I hadn't had any memories of my bag that morning. My bag usually bothers me some way or another on the subway because I'm up against so many people, but strangely I felt none of that today.
Then it suddenly came to me... My heart sinking, I called my dad back at home and asked if my bag was in the living room. And sure enough, I'd left it wide and open, all packed and ready, and completely forgot about it when I left the house. And I didn't even realize it until I arrived at work. How idiotic is that? What's wrong with me? I blame it on Monday. I need to take a nap after lunch.
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