Alarm goes off. Hit snooze button. Twice, maybe three times, depending on whether wine was consumed night before.
Shower. Wash hair. Never mind washing hair. I’ll just wear it up again.
Check email. Check Twitter. Check Facebook. Check clock. Shit. I’m late.
Get in car. Hopefully it starts. Turn on radio. That same fucking Adele song. Turn off.
8:00 a.m. – 8:35 a.m.
Fuck Las Vegas traffic.
Utilize James Bond skills to stealthily sneak past bosses and into cubicle. They’re too busy to notice I’m late anyway. Clock in.
8:41 a.m. – 4:59 p.m.
Stare at computer screen while considering least painful ways to commit suicide.
Never mind the killing myself thing. Life is awesome!!
Get in car. Turn on radio. Adele. Turn off.
5:03 p.m. – 5:50 p.m.
Seriously with this traffic?
Pour self a cocktail. Feed self.
Sit down to computer. Time to get some writing done. Open Safari instead. Check email. Check Twitter. Check Facebook.
Think about all the things I should be writing about.
9:30 p.m. – 10:30 p.m.
Go to the gym. It’s literally only a two minute walk from my house, so why not?
Pour self another cocktail.
Get in bed. Feel exhausted despite having accomplished nothing for the day. Think about all the things I should have written about.
11:30 p.m. – 6:00 a.m.
Dream about the day I’ll have enough time and energy to actually write something worth reading.
Repeat. Unless it’s a Saturday or Sunday, in which case…go to second job.