Sunday Night

11.42p.m. and I stir awake, check the time on my phone, and soberly agree with myself that it's too early
5.33a.m. and my fingers reach for my phone before my eyelids could lift themselves open
5.35a.m. and my eyes strain against the glare, struggling to make out words to make sure you're okay; it's too blurry to read between the lines
6.14a.m. and I figure it's too late to fall asleep now, I've had 7 hours of sleep and the sun is about to come up
6.15a.m. and I fall asleep anyways
8.50a.m. and the hush of voices outside my door rouses me, I look around for my cat
10.17a.m. and there's breakfast on the table; in between mouthfuls I finally do the necessary, read line for line, and listen word for word
2.50p.m. and there's things to do, people to meet and places to be
5.59p.m. and I'm watching empty conversations, guitar on my lap but running out of songs after the second round of "who do you love"
7.10p.m. and I finish working out; I wonder if I should make myself dinner, meals within 30 minutes after a workout are ideal after all
9.14p.m. and I'm still wondering
9.31p.m. and I begin my dinner, old cartoons never really get old
9.43p.m. and I come across a picture of people dancing; I suddenly yearn to slow dance with her just for the fun of it
10.24p.m. and I get the strangest feeling she might talk to me
10.25p.m. and I realise I was mistaken; I decide to get the most of the night and go to bed
11.42p.m. and I stir awake, check the time on my phone, and soberly agree with myself that it's too early