Format the following passage properly, for storytelling purposes. Keep it as written, don't change a single word, but improve grammar where necessary.

Two minutes after 5:00am. The hallway lights are on, granting luminescence visible below the doorway. I have been up for more than thirty minutes now, and last night turned in for bed shortly after 7:00. It is the earliest I've gone to bed in an extremely long time, and seemed to do me a lot of good as I am feeling more refreshed this morning than I have for many days. I was planning to commence working on this piece about fifteen minutes earlier than I actually started; the delay can be attributed to a particular house-mate who seems to have resumed his monopolization of the men's bathroom. (Ironically there are technically two men's bathrooms, but one has been repurposed for female use since there are more women than men among the residents, or 'clients'; despite this, the 'Men' sign was not taken off of the door). Feeling the need to take care of 'business affairs' precipitated my rise from slumber; without making the bed, I grabbed my bathrobe and towel and quietly opened my door. Unlucky was I at that moment to find out it was in use. I stood patiently for anywhere from six to ten minutes; in all honesty, I was not keeping an exact count, but I can tell you for a fact that more than five elapsed. All the while, I tried to fight off the feelings of frustration that naturally manifest for those who are met with delays while needing to use the bathroom. I try to be as empathetic as possible. He is the oldest of the 'clients' here, just a few years away from turning eighty if all goes well for him. He has forgotten more than I may ever know, seen things that I would have loved to witness firsthand. Eventually, the door does open. While I was tempted to head back to my room to make my bed, as in the space of time that elapsed I could not only have made it but gotten a head start on my writing today, I did not want to lose my 'place' in line. With my luck, he may have finished the moment I returned to my room, and by the time I had straightened things up in here and come back out, he might be back in the 'laboratory' again. I waste no time in my assumption of temporary occupation of the territory. It is no pretty sight, as he has managed to get defecation stains on the floor and toilet seat. Perhaps this at least partially explains the delay: he was likely trying to clean up after himself. I have used bathrooms that were in far worse shape, and while a slightly unpleasant aroma makes its way into my nostrils, it is not enough to deter me. It takes me less than ten minutes to finish up with a session of both numbers, plus a shower. My bathrobe adorning a frame that is now showing signs of an increase in muscle tone and evident weight loss, a trusty towel in hand, I adjust the lock back into the 'open' position, turn off the lights and open the door. My house-mate has apparently been waiting for my departure, as he beats a hasty retreat to make his next of what will surely be a multitude of entrances over the next twenty-four hours. Now back in my room, I feel the need arise again to take care of business. I take a chance and am lucky enough to find that the room 'no es occupado'. For now all is right with the world again, or at least that's how my body feels. My 'night music' last night, as it was the night before, was an hour-long compilation of humorous moments from Beavis & Butt-Head. Not exactly the most mentally stimulating content, though the show does have its share of intelligent bits, but a surprisingly efficient sleep aid. Nothing like a good laugh to go along with a good rest. With any luck, by the end of the day today I should either have a new phone, or my old one will have been fixed. I actually have the day off from work, as I'll be going with my house manager to at least one local store...and hopefully only one, depending on how things turn out. It is relieving to have discovered what I think was the cause of the wrinkles in my work shirt: as I work in a kitchen, and spend a fair bit of time washing dishes, I realized I may have become somewhat neglectful as far as drying myself off during and after a shift. I had taken for granted that sometimes the 'air drying' process is not enough when you're someone who takes on water as often as I do. Water can seep into fabric, and if not accounted for properly can create a wrinkle. It seems this is how several wrinkles came into being over the course of my time donning the shirt. Part of me longs for a return to the early weeks, where I simply wore a a comfortable T-shirt and placed a disposable apron over that. Alas, we cannot always get what we want, and the nice thing about having a proper work shirt is that it ensures I am treated more like 'one of the guys' as opposed to a rookie, a trainee, or a 'special guest'. Since I will most likely not be at work today, I am wearing an orange polo shirt. In fact, my apparel is almost an exact equivalent to what I normally wear at work, aside from ditching the common T-shirt + work shirt combination. Since I am going to be on an outing today, I wanted to dress up in a respectful way, without getting too fancy. The challenge now is ensuring that I can avoid staining it, either with traces of water or mucus residue, or worse yet, remnants of this morning's forthcoming breakfast. It should be a less difficult objective than I am making it out to be in my mind; over the last few months I have been better than ever as far as keeping my clothes relatively stain-free goes. Yesterday, I was not so lucky, as this week's 'hot lunch' ($10 and made possible through the house manager purchasing meal tickets for all of the residents) was lasagna. A tricky meal to eat without making a mess, as it is such a saucy dish. Sure enough, about two or three bites in, bits of sauce splattered onto my work shirt. Thankfully, it was not a severe desecration, but it did necessitate a removal of said shirt. If any clothing on my person is to be made dirty, let it be my brown T-shirt. There are plenty of other 'replacement' shirts at home. On the other hand, and for the moment, I've only got the one work shirt. One of my supervisors had spoken about purchasing another one for me, but I do not yet have an extra. Thursdays tend to be busy days, and yesterday was no exception. I found myself going back and forth between tasks, and while I normally handle everything with poise, there was a point where I almost lost my cool. Even so, calmer heads prevailed, and I did all that I possibly could have before being called to go back home...even squeezing in a bit of participation in that day's 'boxing' session. My hopes were let down a bit when I heard a 'preview' of Rydeen over the handheld speaker, which they had mentioned they were saving for me when I got up on stage after I was done with my lunch. Eventually, they did have me lead a song, but it turned out to be a different one (and not another one by the Yellow Magic Orchestra; this one was by a different band altogether). I had never heard it before, and had to listen for a few moments to pick up the rhythm. Eventually, I got a feeling for it and began to improvise moves. 'LEFT! RIGHT! LEFT! RIGHT! UP! LEFT! RIGHT! DOWN!' Embracing my natural baritone, I was able to amplify myself without the need for a microphone, and luckily I ended the day laryngitis-free. Faintly in the distance, a plate clinks, indicating that we may be settling down for breakfast soon. I'm conditioned for the shrill meal call that awaits us all.