Realize for the umpteenth time that while, yes, using Britney as your alarm will in fact make you leap from your cozy nest of blankets with admirable swiftness, you still have to deal with having that song stuck in your head all day. Wonder if rising promptly at ten am on a Saturday morning is worth asking everyone you know to give you a sign or even to hit you, baby, one more time.

While brushing your teeth, notice that it looks as though someone has hit you, baby, one more time: your right eye is mysteriously and inexplicably swollen. A midnight foxy boxing match with your bedpost, perhaps? Your pillow teaching you a lesson about getting back in the kitchen (to make it some pie)? In addition to looking rather battered, you’re going to feel sort of hungover despite the fact that you didn’t drink last night. Swear that if you’re getting sick again you’re going to go at your tonsils with an X-acto knife.

Drown your sorrows in a pot of doublestrength hazelnut with the last of the soy milk that’s teetering precariously on the edge of its expiration date. There is nothing in this world worse than expired soy milk, you know from experience, but the coffee seems okay.

Settle in at your desk with your coffee and spend the better part of the day unwashed and in your pajamas, toying with design projects and painting your nails with the remnants of the sexiest red polish in the world (you want to use up the bottle before it goes completely gloopy and unusable). As equally lazy east coast or bright-and-early west coast friends awaken, debate with them the following:

- Why, exactly, you’re unable to remember that you must pee before starting on your nails, despite knowing perfectly well that struggling with pajama bottoms while the polish is at all damp or tacky will result in everything getting smudged all to fuck.

- Why it is that we can get away with quoting the Simpsons at every opportune moment despite the fact that it’s not quite de rigeur anymore (it’s because we’re just that cool).

- Why IE 6 seems to be much more of a whiny little bitchass with regard to xhtml than was IE 5. Don’t forget to pepper dirty words and slander throughout this discussion.

- How it is that every single one of us has giggled through an episode of American Idol, whether or not we’re prepared to admit it.

- Whether or not pantsal (as in “feel funny in the pantsal region”) is actually a word. Decide that it isn’t, but it should be.

Having come to a consensus on each of these points, take your leave of these likeminded wholesome web personalities and enjoy a well-deserved nap, assuming the caffeine from that pot of hazelnut is out of your system and your nails are completely dry (and you’ve finally had a chance to pee). You have more work to do later, after all, and we all know how strenuous using a text editor can be.