That day -

- when, upon waking up, you feel a weight in your lungs so heavy that getting up and staying in bed carry the same connotation of labour, the same necessity to acknowledge cold reality, and you are indifferent between the two options. That day when, once you do get up, you move your body as if through water and wonder where your mind has gone, why don't you remember what you did a minute ago, and look - it's the fog outside, it has surely seeped into your limbs, that must be why you feel empty and gray from the inside out. An hour into this stretch of wakefulness the realization comes:  it was a cold dream, already forgotten save for an unpleasant aftertaste. The dream, and a long night spent half-awake. You snap out of it and start to - finally - breathe easily. And only then you are awake in the true sense of the word.