Man I hate the morning

The alarm clock buzzes loudly, jolting me awake from my peaceful slumber. As I groggily reach over to hit the snooze button, all I can think is, "Man I hate the morning." The piercing sound of the alarm fills the room, mingling with the distant chirping of birds outside. The cacophony of noise only serves to deepen my dislike for the early hours of the day. As I shuffle my way to the bathroom, I hear the creaking of the old floorboards beneath my feet. The sound is like a haunting echo of the night before, a reminder that time marches on relentlessly. I grimace as I turn on the shower, the water hissing and spluttering before finally cascading down over me. "Man I hate the morning," I mutter, the steam rising around me like a shroud. The smell of coffee wafts through the air, mingling with the sound of the percolator gurgling on the countertop. The rich aroma is a stark contrast to my bleary-eyed state, a promise of the caffeine boost to come. As I pour myself a cup, I can't help but think, "Man I hate the morning." The clink of the spoon against the mug is a solitary sound in the quiet kitchen, a ritual that offers some small comfort amidst the chaos. The doorbell rings unexpectedly, breaking the stillness of the morning. I sigh in annoyance, wondering who could possibly be visiting at this ungodly hour. With a heavy heart, I trudge over to answer it, the hinges squeaking in protest as I swing the door open. "Man I hate the morning," I grumble, my voice barely audible over the din. The visitor's voice is a distant murmur, their words lost in the haze of my half-awake mind. The sound of my phone vibrating on the nightstand startles me out of my reverie. I grope blindly for it, cursing under my breath as I fumble to silence the insistent ringing. "Man I hate the morning," I mumble, the words a mantra of resignation. The notification sound is a stark reminder of the world outside, a harsh intrusion into my cocoon of sleepiness. You can play and download these sounds here: [link to sounds]