Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
I’m not a morning person. Understatement.
My hand couldn’t seem to muster the energy to turn off the alarm. It picked at the covers. The blanket felt wrong.
This isn’t my bed.
The realization makes me uneasy. I must have crashed somewhere else. I hoped I’d remembered to call my mom. I felt a ripple of worry. If not, I was going to be in deep shit for not coming home. She was already made about…