Mornings

I wake up in the morning to the sounds of coffee brewing.
My groggy mind is still in the state of sleep.
My alarm clock is blaring, screaming at me to get up, but I dont want to.I just want to sleep some more.

I slowly throw off my warm covers, and put my feet on the cold floor. Shivers run up my body, and my hair stands on edge.

I pull myself to my tiptoes, trying to minimize the electrifying cold, and slowly balance down the hall.

I grab my mug, and fill it to the brim with the black coffee in the pot. I dont bother with creamer, it takes away the bitter taste.

Slowly I wake up, and when I finally do...I realize that its Sunday...
And I go back to bed.