Of all things she can wake up to, it's her annoying, stupid, blaring alarm. Not birds chirping sweetly outside, not her lover singing softly to her in her ear—none of that. Just the constant, loud, fire alarm-like beep emanating from her phone.

After what seems like ages, she pushes herself off her bed (which she instantly regrets) and into the kitchen to make tea—and scalds herself the second she takes that first sip.

She mutters a curse under her breath, deciding to take a quick shower while her tea cools down to a temperature that's consumable.

The only problem is that when she steps out of the shower, it's a little too late, and her tea's a little too cold now.

She already hates today.

Screw it, she thinks, trying not to gag as she swallows that one cold sip. I'll make some when I come back.

Walking past the window to her room, she looks outside to a street that's drenched in rain, the drops falling down so hard and fast that it makes it difficult to even make out definite shapes. But even if she could see, it'll all be gray and gloomy. And then her eyes land on his photo hung in her room, so she smiles to herself, pulling on her clothes.

Maybe it's not so bad.

That thought lasts for barely a few seconds before the lights go off and the heating stops. Dazed, she steps outside the room, eyes searching for a nonexistent solution, before finally noticing the stack of bills on her small coffee table.

Sweet— she sits down to look through the bills, and just looking at all those numbers and letters gives her a headache.

Drank a little too much maybe.

She stuffs the bills with some extra cash in her bag, before pulling on her coat. She's already late for work, and she can almost hear her coworkers snicker already.

What a great start.

Grabbing her umbrella—thankfully so—she runs outside and around the corner, only to find the bus leaving the stop.

"No, stop—!" She chases after the bus, but her feet can only take her so far, before they slow down to a brisk walk. She'll definitely have to walk to work now.

Great. I sure can expect hell today.

When she finally enters the café, she gets what she expects: eyes that imply that she won't last the day, and a boss that probably gets a kick out of yelling at her every now and then.

Screw you, too.

It's already such a slow day, and for no fault of his, she decides she