Something woke him up, and the clock said it's just 2 O'clock after midnight. He looked at the cell notifications, and gave out a sigh. He knew, he was fucked. Now, there's no way he could attend the morning meeting, and even if somehow he could, it would be a zombie barely looking alive at the office. He always imagined that he'd have a perfect life, and after having it, he'd realized it wasn't perfect. It was as if he dreamed wrong. He used to cheer himself up whenever things would go south, by saying 'i just woke up on the wrong side of the bed', and now he felt as if he woke up to the wrong side of the life. He rose, and went to the balcony, and on the way grabbed a can of beer from refrigerator. Holding that can made him laugh, cause it was only the beginning of the Monday. Apparently the breeze was pleasent, and the city was asleep. Taking few sips at a time, he kept thinking about a question which was haunting him for long. "What do yo