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The 8760th hour

On Wednesday, like every other day, the alarm went off at 6 am. I didn't hear it. 

At 6:08 I finally sat up in bed in the grey early morning light that was pushing through the fat crack in the heavy grey curtain & groaned "when are we finally gonna die?"

I must have seen the sunrise over the bridge, maybe heard some music on the radio, I don't recall morning commutes. I dragged my preheated cup to level 5 & pressed the machine for the less awful coffee with full-cream milk. I work 11 hours. I do take grudgingly long lunch breaks. I sometimes think if I sink deep enough into whatever I'm reading they will simply forget me. 

By 2:30 I already had the lead in the staring contest against my computer screen when I felt the corner of my left eye drop a little bit, then the right, then both my eye lids hung a touch more heavily. I looked down at my hands & noticed 10 or 11 new sun spots appearing on each. In mild disbelief while checking the date on my watch I bent a little backwards to stretch my even slouchier shoulders and when I slumped forward again I could swear I felt my belly droopped a little more heavily over my belt. The legs of the trousers felt tighter too. I got up, stiff with an unfamiliar ache and walked to the bathroom. Exhausted, I almost didn't dare to look left as I pushed the door open. There I was, under the pale fluorescent light, a bunch of new grey hairs sprouting from the left corner of my forehead, eyes sunken a little deeper in the dark lakes around them, a new line to the left of my mouth, where it usually curled in when I smiled. I raised my hand to my face, feeling the fresh brittle lines and the sight of the heavily hanging skin under my arm was just the last straw. I stopped with a sigh. I had overdone it again. 

On my way back to my desk I ran into Olive -the junior admin- and was startled by her excited shriek: Oh my! I guess it's that time of year again. Happy Birthday! 

You'd like to believe the day has some inherent significance. As if the sun would shine a little differently, the people would be kinder or you'd feel this warm glow of realisation and wisdom flow through you. But the truth is, if it wasn't for this sudden physical decline as the clock strikes the 24th hour on the 364th day, you wouldn't even notice it. One minute you are 35 and the next, a year more worn out. 

P.S. The image belongs to "Notes from Saturdays". You can contact through the comment box if you wish to copy/download.

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