The Story of My Average Day

This is the story of the average day in my life. Firstly it starts off with me being completely adorable and asleep:

And it’s 4:10 AM and my alarm goes off. And we all have a good laugh over the idea of me actually getting out of bed the first time my alarm goes off:

And I really want to watch whatever they are watching, because it looks really awesome. For the time being let’s just pretend it’s this:

And I do a bit of snoozing, because snoozing is my downfall, and we do some super genius math:

And come to the conclusion that I actually get out of bed at 4:37 AM, and I look like this:

Because I’m really angry that I snoozed 3 times instead of 2 times, and snoozing really doesn’t make you feel better when you wake up, it just delays the act of feeling crappy and makes you angry and Asian.

So I shower and get dressed like this:

Except in reverse because I wear Wonder Woman pajamas to bed, and a respectable skirt suit to work. And before I run out the door, I run down to the computer and publish the post I wrote last night, which only makes me later.

And then I drive really cautiously to the train station because I didn’t take 3 snoozes.

Oh wait, yes I did.

So I catch the 5:35 AM train and hope that the person who sits next to me looks like this:

When in reality they always look like this:

Except they’re not made of crappy computer animation, so they have a weight to them, and that weight gets pressed up against me.

And then I read sleep the whole trip into the city because having your lands ravaged by the white man really takes it out of you:

But if this little girl was supposed to start beating the Warning Drum, you can see why the Native Americans didn’t fare so well. Or maybe it was those disease filled blankets we gave them. Oh well.

So at 7:00 AM I arrive at work in Trinity Center.

No, not the church, the building next to it. And did you know that Trinity Church is where they found the treasure at the end of National Treasure? So everyday at lunch I go to the church and look for the treasure. And by “treasure” I mean “Nicholas Cage” and only so I can tell him what a bad actor he is.

And once I get to my desk I hook myself up to a Roman Numeral 4:

Except it’s filled with:

And work makes me feel like this:

Because you should never write anything bad about your job on your blog, because that’s just asking for trouble, unless you’re Dooce, which in that case it makes you super famous.

And I don’t really leave my desk for lunch because I’m a dedicated worker extremely lazy. Did I tell you I got my yearly review and it was awesome and I got a raise? Go me.

And then at 5:00 PM I slide down the dinosaur tail, which looks a lot easier than it really is:

And then I get home at 7:00 PM and eat dinner:

And I talk about my day with my parents who hate when I say that my day was “fine” because they insist on getting details, even if there is nothing to tell.

And then it’s 8:00 PM and I feel like a zombie while I sit in front of my computer trying to put together a blog that makes the slightest amount of sense, which you can currently see didn’t go so well:

And then it’s suddenly 10:00 PM and I have nothing written so I take a bunch of pictures and make a lame post about my day to post in the morning before I run out the door to catch my train:

And the 10:00-11:00 PM hour is the fastest hour on the face of the planet, because I start to think about getting ready for bed at 10:00 PM and then it’s magically 11:00 PM when I get into bed, and where did that last hour go? And OMG Family Guy is on, and I love Family Guy and I try to look away, but even if I look away, I’ve seen all the episodes a million times, so I still laugh along with the episode because it’s so gosh darn funny. And then I fall asleep.

Lather. Rinse. Repeat.