I dislike it when I feel like my morning is the equivalent of gnawing on cardboard that has already been gnawed on.
Strange perhaps, so clarity perhaps demands an explanation involving the somewhat excessive consumption of various substances the night prior.
Details remain absent here, because they serve no honorable purpose within this context (at least imho).
May responsibly sharper days with positive momentum be within the future of all righteous beings (or such).
Confidence reasonably assures me that the rest of my day will not remain in the tortured cardboard classification — and even writing this during the influence of my morning green tea shows signs of the clouds giving way to reasonable sunshine of the mind and infinitely beyond (or such).