Routine Routine Routine. It's Saturday and I still have a routine. I woke up about three minutes ago, and like everyday, thought I was blind for the first thirty seconds of being awake. I sleep facedown. It's sort of funny. Out of habit, I immediately look at the clock. 12:54. My sister already left for work. Damn. I guess that cancels out getting to spend time with her today. I casually scratch my hair, and light up a cigarette. Camel Turkish Golds. I wish I never started smoking. But I guess it's basically inevitable during this time period. Fuck the twenty first century and it's bullshit propaganda. My cell phone is vibrating. That low, obnoxious hum against the wall. I sleep on a big black matress on the floor. I used to have a futon. But I broke it. "Hello" My voice cracks from not being used for over eight hours. "Hey! Did you just wake up!?" Sarah basically is yelling, obviously being awake longer than I had. "Uh yeah. Did you even have to ask?" "Nope! Not really!! Are me you and Corey going to hang out?" "Let me wake up. I'll call you in a while." I hang up before she even has a chance to respond, and she tries calling again. I ignore the call finish the cigarette. My joints creak and complain as I try to get up. They hate me every single morning. Well, afternoon today. I then call Corey and confirm the plans. I walk out into the kitchen, and find no one home. I look for a note. Theres a florescent pink sticky note on the table. "Hannah- Went out to breakfast, don't know where dad is. I have errands to do. I'll be home around four." She ends the note with a ridiculously huge smiley face. As usual. After reading the note, I finish my usual wake up routine. I drink a cup of coffee, smoke another cigarette, and take a shower. I didn't wash my hair. I wore a seafoam green showercap because I hate the feeling of clean hair. I then stare into the mirror. I hate everything I see. I especially consintrate on my body. I am disgusting. I poke around for a few minutes, and Corey calls. "Come outside biiiitchhh" I hang up and put on a black hoodie and a pair of jeans. Must grab the essentials. Cigarettes, cellphone. It's cold outside, and the dry, winter in New York air bites at my face like a ravenous squirrel. I plop into the passenger side of his car. I am satisfied with the cd in. I love Gwar. Theres something about weirdos that think they are unholy overlords that sparks my interest. I love the instramentals, the words are really kind of dumb, but I love the growls and weirdness of it all. Overall it puts me in a good mood. [/edit later]