snooze buttons, and loud groans, and cold toes.
wrinkled clothes, and messy braids, and a swipe of mascara.
overfilled notebooks, and heavy backpacks, and comfortable sneakers.
hot tea, and frosty air, and warm car heaters.
rushed, sleepy, same.
I don't particularly like mornings. Maybe it's sleepily pulling myself out of the warm blankets and into the chilling air, or maybe it's fixing my hair when it would rather be anything but fixed at this hour, or maybe it's the anticipation of my day to follow, whether good or bad.
Whatever it is, these are my mornings, on the days when I have to get up to see them.
(and also crappy, rushed pictures of my morning tea.)