5 am

5 AM. Alarm goes off, Kevin hits the snooze bar. Laura’s eyes flair with rage, as he briefly closes his. She kicks him under the covers and yells, “Don’t you fucking dare pull that shit! It’s Saturday! I’m in no mood for snooze-bar games today! You wanna get up? Get up! You want to go back to sleep? Do it! I’m not gonna wake-up every 12 minutes, for the next two hours!”

She’s pissed. Kevin smiles, kisses her on the cheek. She’s right. “You’re beautiful when you’re real, and right.” Kevin gets up; pisses; makes coffee; enters his private man-cave — looks at the Bentley Web-site; Car porn. News; Facebook; jerks off — favorite Russian porn-star — Facebook again, shower.

Kevin Looks in the mirror, gets on the bathroom-scale — first time in months. Says to himself, out-loud: “Jesus!” Losing my hair. Overweight. Exhausted. Hate my job. Hate my life. Is this all there is?

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