i'm half awake in my fake empire

[unsteadily]

i know i shouldn't open my eyes. i can't seem to find the muscles that will actually do so, anyway. that's a sign, right? when my brain does finally send the right signals, my eyes are pried open against their will; peeling my eyelids upward is like dragging fine sandpaper over them, and for a few minutes, my eyes refuse to even focus on the clock, so i have to fumble around for the snooze button. which means i can close my eyes again. for a whole half an hour.

dorothy parker says it best: i'm a fool to rise at all.