The alarm goes off and I groan softly, dreading the energy that my body needs to muster in order to lift myself off the bed. I swipe my phone screen to check the time and I realize I have fifteen more minutes before actual wake time.
“Ah,” my inner voice sounds pleased, “The Universe is on my side today.”
I let my head fall to the pillow once more and fifteen minutes feels like fifteen seconds.
“Oh alright,” I groan, swinging my half-sleeping legs across the edge of the bed. Eyes burning and heavy, I move my feet around and slip them into my fuzzy slippers. It’s a cold morning, just like the morning before and the one before that. And I wonder the same thing that I do everyday. Is the heat even on?
I hear a soft whimper coming from the baby’s crib. I want to go and check on her, and bring a hot cup of milk to her. Morning milk is a baby’s coffee, truly. The little creatures scream frantically until it’s brought to them. There is a small window in which I walk past her bed to get her cup of milk where her soft whimpers transitions into a wail.
I’m fatigued, after a night’s rest. My stomach is lurching in all directions and I feel something that resembles a dizzy spell. I take two steps in the direction of the baby then stop myself. I need to relieve my bladder of the painful pressure, for if I don’t, I might have an accident.
After relieving myself, I want to quickly rush into the kitchen for that cup of milk for my crying lamb but I need my eyes. No, not the ones in my head. The ones that help the ones in my head see. A piece of plastic, worth more than a month’s grocery and also worth my vision. I need it to show me a definition of what I hold in my hand, of where I’m going. Every morning when I put it on, I decide this piece of plastic brings more value to me than any piece of jewelry ever can.
Note: I originally planned to do a post on a diabetic’s struggles from day to day, somehow it ended up like this….to be continued…
xo Coffee Doll