Some days I just wake up and want to throw myself under a bus. I open my eyes, groan at the light, and snuggle further down into my warm duvet. Other days, I wake up with a smile on my face. Ready to face the day. I open my eyes, sit up, and stretch while singing a little tune in my head. Most days pass on the in between. I wake up, groan at the light, but sit up stretching. The song lost to my ears as I make my way through my loft to the kitchen to make some cereal and throw on the computer to catch up with the world before work. I sip at my coffee and lazily stroke my cat while I read the news. Then I get up for a shower, throw on some clothes, and run out the door because I spent too much time petting my cat and am late for work. Almost. And each day it's the same, except for those rare ones where I wake up wanting to throw myself under a bus or wake up with a smile on my face. And life continues on like that, the same page as before. Just like I am, me, myself, and I.