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Personal Narrative Essay : A Everyday Day

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It was a rainy Monday morning. I was fast asleep in my bed and suddenly there was a loud rumbling noise as if there was an earthquake and all the vessels were falling off the shelf. That broke my sleep and I looked around only to realize that it was 5:30 am and my biological alarm woke me up and was pushing me to get up and ease my pressure. Fighting back, I was waiting for my mobile alarm to go off at six. Mondays have always been tough for me and I felt like a school kid not willing to get up from the bed and go to school. I turned around to see my 5-year-old son fast asleep, in fact snoring with his hands and legs spread out as if he was flying in the air. The way he was sleeping reminded me of the carefree life which probably as a kid I too enjoyed, just that I don’t remember it now. Next to him was my wife sleeping. We were expecting our second baby anytime soon. She had troubles getting good sleep throughout the night and that used to make difficult for her to get up early in the morning. As I lay there struggling to get a small nap between the snoozes, my mind was occupied with the thoughts about what my son would be dreaming in his sleep. When he would wake up in the morning, would he have similar kind of worry, anxiety, happiness, satisfaction like we all adults do or would be completely blank and wake up just to embrace the world as it comes to him? I wish I could turn back the clock and bring the wheels of time to a stop. Stop exactly at the same place when I
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