It was almost ten minutes into Godspeed, You Black Emperor! — Hungover As The Queen In Maida Vale when I stepped off the bus onto the damp ground. It was barely light out, and I carefully made my way between deep and distinctly brown puddles caused by car tires on a softened gravel lot. The sirens in my ears rang over and over, and it felt like the bombs had all been dropped, a post-apocalyptic aftermath on a barren, nameless day. I was among the last of the living dead making his way to work.
I’m going to make it through this day without coffee. I’m going to make it through this day without coffee. I’m going to make it through this day without coffee.
Honestly.
Coffee. Need coffee.
Seriously what is with the weather lately? This was supposed to be a ‘good’ work week, we start an hour later. Instead I feel like someone clubbed me over the head and dragged me out of bed at 4.30 am.
I even had to break my rule about drinking the sludge (read, coffee imitiation) from the machine at work. So bad for me.. But at least I can stay awake this way.
Someone, make this week end already.
Wow, I could never risk the sludge in the back. It all tastes like water to me, although that may be because the coffee comes from little blister packs and only takes 20 seconds to percolate.