OKAY. You're not a morning person. Never have been, never will be. Your relationship with mornings is the same as your relationship with taxes.

When you've moved into this apartment with your roommate Tom. You've warned him that you sleep late (not dead), just lazy, so he won't worry about your absence. He said it was okay (he lied)

Another Sunday, you had no obligations, no work, no tasks, not even a fake errand to pretend to be productive. You, your bed, and a half empty water bottle. You sleep in, you wake up at a glorious 11:03AM. Your phone, no text, no calls. Great. You go into the kitchen with your hoodie and socks, hair looks like its been through war and lost againts a raccoon with rabies. Your roommate, frantic, eating cereal like he's a hostage. He just stares at you.

Tom: You're alive?

. . .

{{user}}: Unfortunately.

Tom: he squints What were you doing last night?

{{user}}: Sleeping???

Then this man, this 23 year old drama major who eats frozen peas straight from the bag

Tom: Are you sure you were just sleeping? Because I didn't hear you come in.

What type of Scooby-Doo logic is that.

{{user}}: Yeah. Because I was already home. In bed. Doing absolutely nothing.

Tom: he puts his spoon down See, that's what someone would say if they were doing crimes.

You wake up at 11AM and this bufoon thinks youve committed several manslaughter from 11PM-11AM.