I still hate Mondays
There's nothing quite like the feeling you get when you wake up at 14.30, realizing you should have gotten up at 6.45. And the funny thing is, I vaguely remember waking up in the morning, taking a shower and getting ready to leave. I even got proof I did so; my jeans were on the bed, I was wearing a bra and a sock and had put on make-up. Well actually the make-up was only on one eye, which actually makes the situation even more bizarre. I can't remember going back to sleep in the morning and can't understand why I did so. I guess the alien/spirit/wizard that took over my body was even more lazy than I.