the morning sun can look so mean

I actually like my job, but hate having to go to work.

On Friday I usually make grandiose plans for how much I'm going to accomplish the coming weekend, and by noon on Sunday I'm checking the socks and underwear supply to see if I can put off the laundry for another day.

I reached for the bottle of Ibuprofen I keep on my desk and the top was off and lying next to it. There are several possible explanations, listed in ascending order of probabilty:

I'd already taken some this morning and forgot to put the top back on
One of the cleaning crew had a headache this weekend and "borrowed" some (Please bring back those CDs you "borrowed", too)
My boss is adding work-performance enhancing drugs to all of our pill bottles
The cleaning crew is adding drugs to try to make me forget about those CDs they "borrowed"

I ordered "a large coffee" at the coffee place this morning and the counter person asked me if I wanted light or dark roast. Listen, didn't they cover this in training? The time to ask me to make a decision is
after I've had my coffee. I already used up all the spare processing power left over from driving and autonomic nervous system functions deciding to stop here in the first place. At least she didn't ask if I wanted a biscotti, or my lymphatic system would probably have shut down.

Alan traces his eyes, wakes and retrieves