My eyes cracked open at a criminally ungodly hour. I woke up so early I swear even the rooster outside my window was like, "Bro, chill. It's not even my shift yet."
The sun wasn't even fully up, but there I was, sprinting out of bed like someone had set my blanket on fire.
I went traight to the shower.
Somewhere in the heavens, my ancestors were probably gathering around like a proud audience, clapping their ghostly hands.
Mind you—this doesn't mean I don't shower every day. I do. I'm hygienic, thank you very much. But early morning showers? That's a whole different level of discipline I usually don't unlock unless I've got an exam, a wedding, or a crush to impress.
Anyway. I came back from the shower with my hair dripping and goosebumps covering me like I'd just wrestled with Antarctica. I plopped down in front of my vanity, shivering, looking like a soggy popsicle version of myself.
Girl, calm down. It's just lunch.
