Shortly after moving out of my parents home, I was feeling more liberated and independent as ever, until Monday morning. It was a not so typical weekend, moving into my new apartment, one that was so physically exhausting. After moving for two days and organizing the evenings away, I setting an alarm for the morning, plugging my phone into its charger, grabbed water and headed for the bed. Before I knew it, morning was there greeting me with rays of light streaming in through my window. Not believing that I beat my alarm, I was up and showering, taking a little more time than usual and starting the day off right. It was starting to look like the perfect morning as I played with my dog, sipping my coffee and getting ready. But suddenly something seemed wrong.
