Every now and then, the sky would turn pink and someone would wake up on the right side of the bed. They would get up, find the perfect outfit, manage to get bathed and ready in a set amount of time, and look stunning after the finishing touches. The day from there would just get better. Maybe find some extra cash laying around, getting them their favorite treat. Maybe they would even meet someone special.

That never happened to you though. Rising early was not your thing and it never would be. Living was not your thing. You at the figurative and literal game of life, always coming last. Art school had left you broke, yet you somehow managed to get a ty job as a barista. Classes that were paid for in advance had you ran ragged. Your ty apartment building was falling apart from the inside. Sure, you said your life was rough, but you knew some person out there definitely had it worse than you. Whining and crying would get you nowhere in life, only cold, hard work could. No, you weren’t going to kill anyone, but sometimes that came across easier than making lattes for bratty, stuck up snobs.

An alarm blared throughout the apartment, followed closely by the buzzing of the doorbell. You groaned, utterly put into a state of pain as the two sounds assaulted you so early in the morning. This torture was going to end you…

Twisting and turning to free yourself of the entanglement of the bed sheets, you flung the pillow you had tucked over your head off. You used that to block the sound of the nearby train that had a habit of passing by quarter of midnight. Unfortunately, you slept like a fidgety rabbit, thus managing to wake with a start every single time.

Honestly, you need to stop complaining. It was making you depressed so early in the morning. Finally free of the trap of a bedspread, you dumped your body on the cold hardwood flooring of your room, groaning in resilience. The alarm and door seemed so far from your fetal position. As unenthusiastic as you could manage, you crawled over to your dresser, reaching up to swat the silence button on the alarm clock. It cut off mid-buzz, filling the air with a thick silence.

Thank god that forsaken sound was gone. It’s buzzing eerily reminded you of those mythical harpy creatures from Greek lore. The doorbell also sounded like that, only a little more toned down. Speaking of it, whoever was outside of your door rung it again, filling your ears with the wailing sound. Okay, you were exaggerating a bit, but the sound was pretty bad. You silently cursed the person who continued to press the button.

“I’m coming! Just hold on!” You stumbled onto your head, rubbing your eyes of the crud that managed to get in them while you slept. Gross. While blinded momentarily by your rubbing, you didn’t see the clothing basket in front of you, ramming your foot into it. You jumped back from the pain, suddenly aware and awake from the initial pain. Dropping the f-bomb quite loudly, you hobbled around the offending basket, shooting it a dark look. No response or apology came from the basket. Rude.

Pushing past the piles of useless in your apartment, you managed to get to the door. Hopefully your morning appearance was decent-

Wait. You don’t wear pants to bed. Glancing down with your hand on the lock, you