"MAMA!" my eyes widened and i quickly sat up from my bed, breathing heavily. Oh shit, not again. The same dream, and let me guess the time is currently 4:02AM.... yep, I was right. Now we count to ten: one...two...three...four...five...six...seven...eight...nine...te-

"Baccha tum tik ho?!" Neela Maa pried open the door.

I seriously have no clue why she asks me this every single time, because she knows exactly what im about to say and she also knows why i just screamed. "Haan meri pyaari maa, I'm okay, go back to bed now." 

I feel like at this point I should just be a fucking fortune teller because watch what she's about to say in four, three, two, one- "no baccha, I'm sleeping with you tonight, come here and lay down on my lap." 

I could never refuse, no matter what. I say I'm okay but I'm not, but the feeling of laying in Neela Maa's lap always brings a wave of comfort over me. I hate scaring her, I hate her watching me like this; watching me continuously fuck up my life. As she stroked my hair, I slowly closed my eyes as tiredness overwhelmed me.

I woke up at 11am to the sound of Maa closing the front door and leaving work. Ah yes... its Sunday. It's FUCKING SUNDAY?! I HAVE AN INTERVIEW I NEED TO GET TO IN HALF AN HOUR!! I jumped out of my bed so quickly that I forgot I'm hungover... shit, big mistake getting out of bed that fast. 

I tried my best to stand still and control my breathing but the room was already starting to spin. I blinked harshly a couple times as black dots started to surround me, caving in on me. "I won't let you win this time you stupid ass hangover!!!!" I shouted, as though some person called 'Hangover' was stood right in front of me doing some weird jadoo on me. To be honest, I'd much rather throw up right now then faint because that goddamn hurts. 

But alas, I never get satisfaction of something working in my favour because the next thing i know I'm on my bedroom floor. Steadily, I pulled myself up as my head started to throb. I stumbled a couple times but I knew exactly why I needed to rush, for this stupid interview. "11:07AM" the time read. Thank fuck I was only out for 2 minutes. I grabbed my royal blue bottle and took a few sips of my lemon water (thanks maa) before rushing to the bathroom and then picking out the most professional outfit I had in my wardrobe:

I styled my hair in the only hairstyle I knew how to do: the very much unique (just being sarcastic) straightened, down hair. By 11:16 I was ready and ran down the stairs, got in my car and started driving to this interview.