9 October 2013
This is gonna be a really good day,
Every morning that is what I say.
By nine a.m. I’ve proven myself wrong,
Still wishing my body would play along.
An hour later I’m dragging my rear,
Hoping some energy will mysteriously appear.
By early afternoon I’m gritting my teeth,
Wishing even one pain would cease.
Surviving on thoughts of my bathrobe,
I finally arrive back at home.
Tomorrow is gonna be a much better day,
I guess that’s what I’ll always say.