A very gentle pouring of rain. Faint bursts of thunder echoed through my room, as a waft of the perfumed earth hit my nose. It seemed impossible to detach my back from what felt like the most comfortable bed I've ever slept in. My eyes felt heavier than a mountain. Yet, the alarm blaring next to my head was constantly reminding me of my earthly responsibilities, not yet letting me slumber my way to the great heavens. That responsibility being an 8 am class.
With immense willpower, I molted from my woolen cocoon, rising from the heap of blankets, as a faint breeze hits the back of my neck causing me to shiver. I reluctantly rubbed my eyes and picked up my phone to put an end to that horrific noise. Regardless of how nice of a tone I choose for my alarm, it always ends up becoming my least favorite sound in the entirety of the earth.
My finger hovers over the snooze button for a moment as the thought of resting for another 10 minutes rushes over my head. It was an embarrassing show of weakness. I refrained from being so easily swayed by good weather and a comfortable bed, and knew that I would regret lying down again. It was the fear of not being able to get up again if my back hit the mattress.
My finger gently but decisively pushed on the stop button, glaring in this angry red, almost as if it was telling me that my time for slumber has past, and the world needs my attention. I reveled in the momentary triumph against myself, and felt a sense of pride that I was being disciplined. However, I was oblivious to how long the alarm was actually running for. I saw numbers on the top of the button in the same angry red. Minus 7 minutes and 42 seconds. It was almost 8 minutes past the time I was supposed to wake up.
Letting out a huge sigh, I finally got out of bed. Looking out the window, I saw this strange gloomy atmosphere. The clouds were not being my friends today. My eyes wandered across the room. It was the only room in this cramped studio apartment. I glanced at my laptop, checking if I plugged in the charger last night. To my delight, I actually did. In my drunken drowsiness yesterday, my mind somehow had enough functionality left for me to realize how screwed I would be if I forgot to charge the laptop for today's class.
After all this drama, I finally stood up and stretched my whole body. With a deep breath, I felt like a new man, ready to take on all the challenges the world could throw at me. I slowly made my way toward my bathroom. I opened the cabinet, looking for my toothbrush, half regretting not pressing snooze. I had already spent so much time contemplating, might as well have gotten another 10 more minutes of sleep. I finally succeed in retrieving my toothbrush. However, I soon found out the futility of a human and how small he is to the world, for the world had given me the first of its many great challenges. I had run out of toothpaste.
My brain went into immediate panic. I squeezed the tube as hard as possible, hoping that the world would show me mercy and let a single drop of this heavenly paste to be procured from the very empty tube. After many futile attempts, I came to the realization that there was nothing coming out. I doubted that an industrial roller would be able to extract any toothpaste from this vessel of emptiness.
Suddenly my mind switched from finding the solution to dealing with the consequences. Could I possibly get away with not brushing? I had brushed last night. A quick breath check proved that I in fact did not brush last night. The panic just got worse. My mind was overrun with thoughts. What if I ran out with my toothbrush, got the paste from the corner store on the way to the class and took a slight detour and brushed in the park where the water fountains were? I immediately realized that I would look like a homeless person. And I would not be able to bear the embarrassment if someone I knew walked through the park and saw me in that situation.
As my mind raced and the clock ticked, my eyes fell towards the ajar cabinets, revealing a horrific mess of medicine, detergent, tools and other miscellaneous items that I rarely used. Among the army of screwdrivers, I noticed the lone pair of scissors. Aha! My Excalibur that would get me out of this predicament. I quickly grabbed the scissors and cut the tube open vertically. After the treasures of the tube were revealed, I surgically scraped as much paste as possible onto my toothbrush. Victory at last!
I quickly brushed my teeth. For some reason, I felt an overwhelming sense of guilt. I also went through my once-a-year flossing session, hoping it would make me feel better. It did not. With a basket of mixed feelings, I exited the bathroom. Victorious, yet disappointed at how easily I was at the doors of defeat. The world was being merciless today.
I dried my face with a paper towel as my phone buzzed. Once, twice, then stopped. After about 5 seconds, my phone started vibrating in such a manner, it seemed like it would explode any second. I felt like I was about to witness Chernobyl again. I quickly picked it up to see what was the cause for such an electronic uproar. Oh, and was it an uproar indeed.
The scheduled 8 am class was cancelled. The professor had notified us through what seemed to be a hastily written email. There were no reasons mentioned for what caused this sudden cancellation. I let out a huge sigh of relief and sat down on my bed, which did not seem that comfortable anymore. The class group chat was in an uproar as many people were already on their way. The time now was 7:30 am.
The uproar was quite justified. Luckily, I lived a 10-minute walk away from the campus so I was not even dressed at this point. However, I still felt like I was done a misdeed as I had to endure those 6 minutes of immense stress, which was solely my fault.
I laid back down in my bed, looking at the sky through the window, where now was only a vestige of the previous shower remained. The clouds were parting and the faint glow of the morning sun was peeking above. I muted the group chat and noticed another message notification from the corner of my eye. I decided to ignore it for now and lie down and reflect upon my recently fought war. My eyes grew heavy once more and I dozed off into nothingness.
My sweet leisure was soon interrupted by another flurry of a similar buzz from the sentient miniature monolith we call the smartphone. I picked it up to see an incoming call, only for it to go to voicemail due to my sluggishness and unwillingness to pick it up. After staring at the same static screen with the words "Missed Call (2)" for about 30 seconds, my brain finally started to regain its functionality. Swiping the active notification, I looked at the time. It was half past ten.
This was quite late for my usual routine. I had deliberately taken all 8 am classes the past two semesters in an attempt to become more disciplined. It was hard but eventually my sleep schedule was fixed and it became quite enjoyable waking up early.