My dream-like reality

Everyday I live the scheduled, ordinary life that everyone else does. It could not possibly be less unique. Perfectly understandable, in every way unimaginable, and I'm supposed to be invested in the entire plot of it all. But I'm not. The lugging steps. The boring breaths. Everything is a haze and everyone communicates in grunts. I can't tell if I'm too sober or too drunk. The only thing extraordinary about it is how ordinary it really is. Am I awake? Or will I wake up soon? Either I've yet to enter the real world, or the real world is just boring.

Either way, I need to find something to do.