Another day had already arrived. There is a specific kind of exhaustion that settles in when you can map out every second of your existence before it even happens.
I woke up at the usual time, brewed tea for my grandmother, and moved through the motions—the same motions, on repeat. My life felt like a never-ending loop.
Anyway, I'm grateful and I'm living well. I suppose that's enough, I told myself.
With that quiet resignation, I began getting ready for work. Breakfast was nothing more than a glass of hot water.
As I gathered my things, I caught my reflection in the same mirror I'd recently salvaged from the storage room.
I paused, offering myself a small, tentative smile.
"I look quite pretty today," I whispered to the empty room.
I glanced at my keys on the table. "I think I should take the scooter today."I hesitated for a second, then shrugged.
"Never mind."
After that brief moment of self-reflection, I headed out and started the commute. The office schedule was exactly as I anticipated. It is a strange thing, how the hours can feel infinite while the days blur together. I knew that once I returned home, the loop would simply start again.
Days bled into one another until I lost my sense of time; I didn't even realize five days had already vanished into that same never-ending loop.