Thing a Week 1: Möebius Life

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I woke up, not surprised to see another day, but certainly disappointed. While my eyes adjusted to the abnormally cruel morning light, I threw my blanket to the ground and exposed my naked body to the frigid apartment air. I stretched, feeling my body physically wake up from another long night, and then reluctantly dragged myself to the shower and prepared for another day at work.

The day was a blur; as my body flew through it on autopilot, my mind was elsewhere, remembering the good times from before I was damned to a dateless life of monotonous litany. I relived those memories instead of making new ones, though they grew hazier and hazier every day.

Finally, the clock struck time to leave and another day was over. On the way home, I stopped, once again, at a local drugstore and picked up the usual. I slipped the bag casually into my pocket and probably presented a plastered smile for the clerk. As I left, I held the door open politely for a stranger I hoped to never see again.

When I arrived home I indulged in a few hours of monotonous television, drinking beer after beer. Can after can littered the ground around my recliner, clinking softly as each can only added to the growing mountain. What felt like an eternity later, I grabbed my medicine, stumbled into bed, and gobbled the entirety of it up. As I waited for my torment to end, I pulled a blanket over my shaking body and let my eyelids fall as they grew heavy, and the next thing I knew

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