Comment by trix on Honey Bear - Chapter 92.5

hope your alarm goes off exactly on time but your body decides it’s a suggestion rather than a command, leaving you hovering in that half-awake purgatory where every minute feels both too long and too short, and I hope when you finally get up, the floor has that faintly unpleasant temperature that makes you question all your life choices before you’ve even brushed your teeth, and may your toothbrush fall just slightly too close to the sink edge so you spend an unnecessary second debating gravity like it’s a philosophical dilemma, and I hope your toothpaste splurts out more aggressively than expected so it looks like you’re preparing icing for a cake instead of basic hygiene, and I hope every shirt you wear feels fine until you step outside and suddenly it’s either too warm or too cold in a way that feels personal, like the weather checked your outfit first, and may your keys always hide in the most obvious place but only after you’ve checked everywhere else twice, and I hope your pockets develop tiny holes that are just big enough to make coins disappear but not big enough to notice immediately, and may every door you push have a “pull” sign and vice versa, just to keep your confidence in check, and I hope your shoelaces come untied at the exact moment you feel slightly rushed so you have to choose between dignity and efficiency, and may every pedestrian crossing light take just a bit longer when you’re in a hurry but change instantly when you’re not, as if the universe enjoys subtle timing jokes at your expense,