Five hours left
in today's workday.  
Five hours,
and I simultaneously
don't think I can make it,
but also know I have to.
Five hours is so little,
such a small amount of time.
So I'll watch the clock,
witness the dwindling.
I know I'll be fine,
after all,
it's just five hours.
Plus I'm off tomorrow,
and I have grand plans
for a day of wallowing
in bed, my mind set
on accomplishing
absolutely nothing.
Hurry up, seven o'clock.
Four and a half hours now.