I woke up at 11.00 am despite 7.30 am alarm.

Shimmering lights dancing upon my eyelids, apparently too thin to hold the sun’s diffused light. I rubbed my face against my pillow, pulled my knees onto my chest, wishing fetal position would send my conscience back to dreamland 5 minutes more. I chose not to have my cup of coffee that day though. My palate refused anything I put on my tongue lately.

I didn’t see my cat that morning, maybe they are visiting neighbour’s yard. They kind of adopt human’s tendecy toward their environment; ambience-seeker, calm-craving, self-centered creature. As one of my fellow said, routine is like a rust. Well, maybe these feline understand it better.

What’s the agenda today, Self? Nothing? Oh. I thought we have 14 lines on our weekly agenda? Nada? Not today?

It was a choice. It was my choice.
Woke up. Snoozed. Morning pray. Cold shower.

I made thousands of choices everyday I may not aware. Only one or two per day had perfectly imprinted in my memory; “this one is an important decision”, I told myself.

I hardly remember, if not recall, what kind of mornings I had. What kind of ritual I developed, what kind of stability “My Days” were proposing to “My Weeks”. What kind of hurricane-triggering-habits that I constantly feed my mood.

That noon my cervical spine aching. No surprise, since it bore the weight of all my unnecessary questions, some of them translated into this pointless writing.

I think I deserved the ache.