The dark outside makes it hard to get up, and yet all the training of the last thirty years lets the body rise and go through the motions of getting up to go to work.
Work that is not there any more, automatic routines that are no longer there. There are many other things to do, but:
The wife is asleep, the son is asleep, the cat wants food. Feed the cat, there are no other things worth doing. Set up the coffee maker and make a cup of coffee. Look at the news on the computer, look at the clever remarks underneath the pictures.
Hear the buzzing sound in the head, a constant companion, a white noise, a hiss that will not go away. There is nothing pleasant at the moment at all, now that the domestic status quo is in power again. Now all the plans made yesterday are nothing, let them come to naught and lie down on the sofa, a place silent but for the ticking of the clock in the room.
It is possible to fall asleep again here, a non-constructive reaction to the chaotic surroundings.
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