Hit snooze. Hit it again. Hit it again.
Finally open your eyes, because this feels like the fourth snooze. See that it’s really bright outside, so yeah, that was probably the fourth snooze. Assume you’re already running behind for the day.
Make a million deals with the universe.
If I check my email and work is magically canceled today, I will start volunteering.
If I check my phone to see my client has rescheduled our meeting, I will donate to charity.
If my professor sends out an email that class is canceled, I will cease all of my sins.
Check your phone. Check your email. See no messages about magical cancellations. Acknowledge that life is still going, life is still waiting for you.
Stretch out further in bed, but in a way where you could sit up immediately if someone were to come in and yell at you for still sleeping — as if you were a teenager again, and you were warily listening for your mom’s relentless footsteps. “I’m up! I’m UP!”
Eventually put your feet on the floor. Begin already planning the amazing nap that you will (but in the end, won’t) take later.
Stare at your screen, scroll through your phone quickly, without really seeing anything. Think about all of the people who are still sleeping. Envy them. They don’t even know how good they have it.
Make it to the bathroom. Feel proud of yourself for getting this far. Brush your teeth. Wash your face with cold water. Feel a little more awake afterwards.
Come back to your room. Look at your bed. Refuse to allow yourself to think about it too much. It’s too tempting.
Make it outside, eventually. Feel the sun on your face, even if you can’t see it. Be a little happy, even through your grumpiness — because your room is comfy, and cozy, and easy. But it’s also dark sometimes. And small sometimes. And lonely sometimes.
And here you are, out in the world, living. Another day.
Kim Quindlen is a writer and comedian living in Chicago. Her Uber rating is just okay.