Well, this morning wasn't that unlike any other, my alarm went off at 6, and I turned it off and went back to sleep. Obviously I'm kind of missing th point there, but I kind of like to pretend that I could get up hat early if I needed to. Normally, I just go into really light sleep for 30 minutes or so, but this morning , I went into REM sleep. Granted, had a pretty cool dream, and I was rested, but when I woke up, I looked out the window, and saw how light it was. I assumed that it was 7:15, but when I looked at the clock, I found out that it was 7:52. The problem with this is that my school starts at 7:40 for all intents and purposes. I pulled on pants, grabbed a t-shirt, and sprinted out the door. The thing was that I had never really been in a situation like this before, it was kind of a shock, and also a sense of profound personal failure. I'd seen a lot of people come in late from oversleeping, but I never was one, well, now I have. I'm going to bed earlier from now on.
Note: While writing this, I looked at the clock, and it was 7:08, for a thing that I had to be at by 7. Can I just give up on this week? Please? I'm hoping that the after affects of being in a room with a kid with bronchitis for 8 hours. This week is not going well, but hey, my attitude is more than half of it, right?
Here's another story, third person omnitient, like I promised. (Bonus points for correctly guessing which song it's based on)
Steve walked down the street, his brim pulled down low. The streets were silent, except for the sound of his feet. He realized that his vengeance would soon be satiated as he loaded his pistol on the usually populous Chicago streets. Before he could let go of the slide, a score of bullets ripped through the unwonted silence. The bullets hit with deadly precision, and Steve dropped to the curb. A man walked out of the shadows, and pulled a handkerchief off his latent face. He nudged the body with the toe of his boot, and thought to himself, "Not today, punk."