The Monday Morning Loop

My alarm buzzed loudly at 6:30 AM, just like every usual Monday morning. I rolled over and looked at my phone, my eyes still heavy from the lack of sleep the night before. My mind knew I had to get up, but my body refused to cooperate. Too tired to argue with myself, I reached for my phone and pressed snooze.

Outside, the birds had already started singing. I slowly drifted back to sleep, only to wake up suddenly a short while later.

Oh no.

I checked the time. It was already 7:00 AM. I was late.

Panic rushed through me. I quickly jumped into the shower, hoping the cold water would wake me up. Afterward, I stood in front of the mirror, trying to encourage myself for the long day ahead. This Monday already felt harder than usual because I had survived on only four hours of sleep.

Looking at my tired face, I decided there would be no makeup today. It didn’t really matter anyway. I wasn’t meeting anyone important, and there was nothing special planned for the day. I quickly got dressed, grabbed my bags, and rushed out the door.

At first, everything felt like a normal Monday morning. My neighbor smiled warmly at me and kindly held the lift for me. Outside, cars filled the streets as everyone hurried to start their day.

Only the weather felt different.

The sky was dark and gloomy. I sighed quietly to myself, hoping the day would somehow get better. I continued walking along my usual path, surrounded by tall buildings and green trees, until I finally arrived at the bus stop.

That was when I noticed a familiar face.

It was my five-year-old nephew.

Normally, he was loud, playful, and full of energy. But today, he stood quietly beside his mother with sleepy eyes and slumped shoulders. Even a five-year-old seemed to understand the heavy feeling of a Monday morning.

I called out his name with excitement.

Immediately, the gloomy atmosphere disappeared. He and his mother turned toward me with bright smiles and cheerful waves. For a moment, the morning suddenly felt lighter and warmer.

Before I could walk over to play with him, my bus arrived. Since I was already late for work, I quickly tapped my card and boarded the bus.

As the doors closed, I looked out the window. My nephew ran along the pavement, laughing and waving goodbye until he slowly disappeared from sight. It was such a small but heartwarming moment that completely changed my mood.

I found an empty seat and sat down quietly. The bus was crowded, yet strangely silent. Almost everyone stared down at their phones, lost in their own worlds without speaking to one another.

Without thinking, I pulled out my own phone too, becoming just like everyone else.

As I scrolled through my screen, my mind started worrying about all the work waiting for me at the office. Lost in my thoughts, the bus ride passed quickly.

When my stop finally arrived, I stood up and moved toward the exit.

I reached forward to tap my card, but the bus was packed. Before I could tap out, the crowd behind me pushed forward impatiently, rushing toward the doors. I was swept along with everyone else and carried out onto the pavement.

By the time I regained my balance, the bus doors had already closed and the bus was driving away.

I froze in frustration.

In all the chaos, I had forgotten to tap out.

What a day, I thought tiredly. First I overslept, then I rushed out without makeup, and now this.

What a terrible start to the week.

Exhausted, I closed my eyes for one long second, wishing I could restart the entire morning.

BZZZZZZ.

A loud vibration suddenly filled my hand.

My eyes snapped open.

The busy street was gone. The bus was gone.

Instead, I was staring at the familiar white ceiling of my room.

Confused, I looked down at my hand. I was holding my phone.

The screen lit up brightly in the dark room.

6:30 AM. Monday.

My alarm buzzed loudly, waiting for me to press snooze once again.