6:00 AM
Wake up bright and early, ready to start the day. You’re already on a roll, smashing out some easy wins by having your laundry done and folded, your overnight oats ready to go, and your clean, crisp work clothes ready to slip into for the day. It’s the little wins that add up, remember that. It will come in handy later.
7:00 AM
Grab your keys and hit the ground running before your neighbour leaves for work. You want to get an early start to your day. Rumour has it that Mikel wants to sacrifice someone on the first day of the season, you know, to show he means business. You’re not sure if he’s actually serious, but you’d rather not take your chances. You know he’s still sore about those "almost league titles" from the past few years.
7:30 AM
You pull into the training ground a few minutes early. Huzzah. You make your way through the foyer and into the corridor where the trophy cabinet for the most recent twenty years lives. It's been given a few mini snacks here and there over the years, but its absolute favorite snack seems to have been MIA for the past twenty or so years. Its stomach grumbles as you pass by, hoping you have a treat in store. Alas, you do not, so you march on, making a strong start to your day even stronger as you walk into your office early.
9:00 AM
Training starts. You watch as the players make their way onto the pitch, warming up and stretching. You’ve gotten quite a bit of work done since you arrived, being on top of things until at least noon. You recline on the benches and watch the players train, getting comfortable and relaxing. Maybe a little too much….
12:00 PM
The afternoon snooze is starting to settle in a bit. You have a nice, leisurely, and somewhat careless lunch. You have plans to finish the rest of your work within the next few hours, but the morning’s pace has left you tired and you are in need of a break. There’s also a problem with other co-workers calling in sick so you have to help pick up the slack. Just hope you aren’t too overstretched–Mikel might have a brain aneurysm if he loses anyone else.
3:00 PM
The midday break has certainly gotten to you and you’ve seem to have fallen a bit behind. Don’t worry, you still are doing fine for time, you might have to pick up the speed and stop time-wasting if you want to finish your work faster than the other clubs.
5:00 PM
The day has gotten away from you, and you are scrambling to finish the last pieces of work before you can officially go home. You spike yourself up on your favorite caffeinated beverage, perhaps take some advice from your favorite study TikToker who has a penchant for pouring five hour energy shots in their Red Bulls. You think you might be on the fritz, but it will all be worth it if you could just get through the day…
6:00 PM
You’ve signed off on your last assignment and are ready to go home, but you have to actually make it home for the day to be fully finished. Three other co-workers have fallen ill since noon, and your team has been stretched thin, but you’re almost done. If you could just beat your neighbour home…
6:30 PM
You pull into your driveway, accidentally hitting your neighbour’s pet cockerels on the drive home. As you pull in, you see that same neighbour being evicted to the smaller, less glamorous block one street away. They seem to be crying over their cockerels, rambling about canes, sons, and that one final they couldn’t seem to put away.
Amidst the confusion you realise your other neighbour has already pulled into their driveway, the obnoxious sky blue coat peeking out of their car, their ridiculously blonde giant of a son in tow. Rumour has it he has a shrine dedicated to agile Argentinian dwarves. That, or bald Catalonian men. It doesn’t matter anyway, you’re sure they have somehow manipulated time in one of their 115 tax evasion violations.
You jump out of your car, trying to make it across the threshold before your annoying, filthy rich neighbour, but the day’s events have left you tired and out of steam. You can only watch in despair as you trip over your own tired legs, faceplanting on the footpath as you watch your neighbour walk through the door of his home before you for the third time this week.
Oh well, there’s always tomorrow…