5:59 AM. This is you in sleepy bliss. Alarm goes off. You were going to go to the gym, but screw that. You can sleep in an hour if you skip it. Wasn’t there a study that said getting enough sleep made people skinnier? Yeah. I’m going to sleep myself skinny.

8:30 AM. You hit snooze five times. Apparently, the alarm got pissed and gave up. You throw on clothes and brush your teeth, but that’s all you have time for. The traffic is horrendous, and you can’t help but wonder…

9:10 AM. The red brick road had worse traffic, and you got lost. You’re walking into work with yesterday’s mascara smeared around your eyes, and the office mean girl notices your dress is only halfway zipped. She offers an underhanded insult/compliment about how hobo-chic you look today. You haven’t had your coffee yet. You’re thinking…

9:35 AM.  But why let that annoying coworker ruin your day? Today, someone remembered to make the coffee, and no one noticed you’re late.  You fill your favorite mug and decide you’re going to tackle the emails you didn’t bother with on Friday evening like a ninja.

12:35 PM. You tackled the inbox and have been productive as Hell. Sure you skipped the morning workout, but a few of your coworkers decide to get Mexican food for lunch, and you’ve earned it. After a few chimichangas and a Coronarita, your stomach starts to gurgle. You skirt out of the restaurant praying your cheeks stay together and that the bathroom on the other side of the office is completely empty.

12:40 PM. The new intern has located you in the bathroom and proceeds to ask you a dozen questions.

1:30 PM. There’s a staff meeting. A corporate moron decides all emails sent out should be approved by middle-level management (i.e. you) because in offering the lowest pay possible, they’re forced to hire people who have a minimal grasp on the English language. And it’s time to come up with a new mission statement. YEAH!

3:30 PM. Staff meeting that should have taken 20 minutes takes 2 hours. So much for getting anything done. Your brain is so fried that you scroll Pinterest looking for Sangria recipes. Meanwhile, 40 emails collect in your inbox waiting for your editing and approval. Groan.

4:45 PM. You begin to read the 40 emails and realize half your staff doesn’t know how to conjugate verbs. Editing commences. You send an Amazon link to books about English grammar. Silently, you wonder…

5:00 PM. You’ve edited 5 emails. But no one can make you stay past 5, so you’re out of there. If anyone tries to stop you, cite your diarrhea session from earlier today or tell them you have to let out your dog–even though you don’t have a dog. On the drive home, you reflect on how your dream job has slowly turned into the seventh circle of Hell.

5:45 PM. But finally, you walk in the door of your apartment, put up your feet, and realize that…