As I was getting ready to leave the house this morning and gathering my things from my bedside table, I glanced up to see Gllen staring straight at me. It was kind of unnerving - like being looked at by a corpse laying in a coffin. Our eyes locked and I stood transfixed, unable to break away from his cold stare.
His lips moved and he croaked out, "Where are you going?"
"To work" I replied. His brow furrowed and he continued to stare. "It's Monday" I added. His eyes narrowed and he gave me a look of calculating doubt.
"It's Sunday" he told me. Now I can see how he would be mistaken - he had stayed up all Saturday night and did not go to bed until 6:30am on Sunday morning, and then spent the rest of the day either sleeping or nursing his hangover. I recounted the events of each day of the weekend to prove to him that it was indeed, Monday.
He sighed. "I missed a day." He then closed his eyes and went back to sleep.
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