You wake up thinking the day is yours.
Yours to spend or waste however you like.
It isn't.
Every animal alive can sleep.
You share that with the dog on your bed and the birds outside.
Nothing about staying down is distinctly yours.
The getting up is the human part.
Not because you owe the gods anything.
Because you were handed a shift in something older than you.
A thing your ancestors started and you will not live to see finished.
You keep hunting for motivation like it lives inside you.
It never did.
The reason was always other people, already awake, already counting on the work.
You are not a self with a day to fill.
You are a shift someone is waiting to relieve.