The alarm is buzzing again...like every morning. Same time. Same ringtone. She fumbles around looking for it, after a few agonizing seconds finding it tucked under her pillow. Looks like she fell asleep while texting again. "Ooops! Sorry...whoever I was talking to!", she says while logging herself off the messenger. She's gonna have some explaining to do to all 3 people that noticed she stopped replying at some point. Slowly, she kicks the warm blankets off her...reluctantly pushing herself off the bed...half asleep. Walking around in a daze, she stretches and starts for the restroom when she stubs her little toe on the brick that's holding her bed off the ground. "FUCK!" she bites her lower lip and offers a silent 'sorry' to the big guy upstairs for the first words out of her mouth in the morning being a curse. "EVERY morning...jeez", she sighs and limps her way to the morning ritual.
Looking over herself in the mirror...dark circles under her eyes, her hair looking every bit of a haystack. Blood-shot eyes again, she's not getting enough rest...but what else is new. She brushes her teeth and shifts her weight from foot to foot, resting one on top of the other to avoid the cool floor. She can almost hear her mom yelling in the back of her mind..."Put some shoes on! Why do you have endless slippers if you're not gonna wear them?". She laughs quietly, she was a mess. She starts making a list of things to do in her head while she brushes her tongue...not like she's gonna get them done today either. Sure the laundry needed to get done, and there was dinner...and work...but there was also watching t.v. and reading...and her chat friends. Another sigh. Chat was taking over and she was letting it run away with her. She really needed to focus away from her laptop for a while. Her cell phone rings in the room and she rinses quickly, darting to the room. She already knew who it was from, every morning at the same time they texted to say 'hi'. But it made her feel happy that someone thought about her first thing in the morning. She replies back a quick hello and looks at the time. Late again! Sure she was going to wear the pretty scrubs to work and ends up picking up some jeans, converse and a soccer jersey. Once again she has no time for breakfast, so she grabs a Coke and hopes there's a candy bar somewhere in the office.
Pulling up to the parking lot and the boss isn't there yet...she's safe again from being written up. She needs to get her ass in gear and be at work on time and blah blah blah...oh look at bird! That was her as of late, the attention span of a 2 yr old. Here went another day of endless reports and the most boring job on the planet. She was convinced one day they would walk back into her office and find her hanging from the ceiling fan with the blades bumpin against her head 'thwack thwack thwack'...or maybe slumped over her desk after having an anneurism caused by hearing the world's stupidest question over the intercom...again. But she had to do it, this was what she had to do to survive. To not be the loser. To have things and pay for them. So, she slaps her grin on her face and hopes to spaghetti god out there that people text her throughout the day and make her smile about something! It would absolutely prevent her from going on some murderous rampage with a stapler.
The clock, is such a cruel CRUEL contraption. It's specific purpose is to make your day seem longer when you are at work...and your hours fly by when you're with someone you like and can't talk to enough. She sighs and looks at it again, for the 3rd time in the last 14.4 minutes. Almost quitting time, yet not quite there. Why is there a need to even look forward to 6 p.m. anymore? It's always: A) She has to stay late and fix everyone else's mistakes for the day at work or B) She's going home and dealing with the same repetitive nights she always has. In the blink of an eye she's driving home, almost looks like the car is on auto pilot because she sure as hell doesn't remember getting to this street...where did she stop paying attention to the road? She needs to focus. Her car slowly weaves through the same cars she sees every afternoon...the sun glaring at her angrily through a dirty windshield. "Damn bugs.." she mumbles as she attempts to wash the windshield with the wiper fluid. Great, just great. Now it's all smudged...sighs...she's almost home anyways what gives. She takes the last turn into her street, and waves patiently at the neighbors who seem to think she gives a crap about their new car. She pulls into the carport...lays her head back for a while and closes her eyes while System of a Down blasts on her stereo. God she loves how the drums sound on this...she bites her lower lip and looks at her cell phone. No new messages. Hmmm...wonders if maybe...she shakes her head and tries not to worry for once.
She walks up the steps and takes a deep breath. Slides the key in...and slowly pushes the door open. Here goes another night....
Looking over herself in the mirror...dark circles under her eyes, her hair looking every bit of a haystack. Blood-shot eyes again, she's not getting enough rest...but what else is new. She brushes her teeth and shifts her weight from foot to foot, resting one on top of the other to avoid the cool floor. She can almost hear her mom yelling in the back of her mind..."Put some shoes on! Why do you have endless slippers if you're not gonna wear them?". She laughs quietly, she was a mess. She starts making a list of things to do in her head while she brushes her tongue...not like she's gonna get them done today either. Sure the laundry needed to get done, and there was dinner...and work...but there was also watching t.v. and reading...and her chat friends. Another sigh. Chat was taking over and she was letting it run away with her. She really needed to focus away from her laptop for a while. Her cell phone rings in the room and she rinses quickly, darting to the room. She already knew who it was from, every morning at the same time they texted to say 'hi'. But it made her feel happy that someone thought about her first thing in the morning. She replies back a quick hello and looks at the time. Late again! Sure she was going to wear the pretty scrubs to work and ends up picking up some jeans, converse and a soccer jersey. Once again she has no time for breakfast, so she grabs a Coke and hopes there's a candy bar somewhere in the office.
Pulling up to the parking lot and the boss isn't there yet...she's safe again from being written up. She needs to get her ass in gear and be at work on time and blah blah blah...oh look at bird! That was her as of late, the attention span of a 2 yr old. Here went another day of endless reports and the most boring job on the planet. She was convinced one day they would walk back into her office and find her hanging from the ceiling fan with the blades bumpin against her head 'thwack thwack thwack'...or maybe slumped over her desk after having an anneurism caused by hearing the world's stupidest question over the intercom...again. But she had to do it, this was what she had to do to survive. To not be the loser. To have things and pay for them. So, she slaps her grin on her face and hopes to spaghetti god out there that people text her throughout the day and make her smile about something! It would absolutely prevent her from going on some murderous rampage with a stapler.
The clock, is such a cruel CRUEL contraption. It's specific purpose is to make your day seem longer when you are at work...and your hours fly by when you're with someone you like and can't talk to enough. She sighs and looks at it again, for the 3rd time in the last 14.4 minutes. Almost quitting time, yet not quite there. Why is there a need to even look forward to 6 p.m. anymore? It's always: A) She has to stay late and fix everyone else's mistakes for the day at work or B) She's going home and dealing with the same repetitive nights she always has. In the blink of an eye she's driving home, almost looks like the car is on auto pilot because she sure as hell doesn't remember getting to this street...where did she stop paying attention to the road? She needs to focus. Her car slowly weaves through the same cars she sees every afternoon...the sun glaring at her angrily through a dirty windshield. "Damn bugs.." she mumbles as she attempts to wash the windshield with the wiper fluid. Great, just great. Now it's all smudged...sighs...she's almost home anyways what gives. She takes the last turn into her street, and waves patiently at the neighbors who seem to think she gives a crap about their new car. She pulls into the carport...lays her head back for a while and closes her eyes while System of a Down blasts on her stereo. God she loves how the drums sound on this...she bites her lower lip and looks at her cell phone. No new messages. Hmmm...wonders if maybe...she shakes her head and tries not to worry for once.
She walks up the steps and takes a deep breath. Slides the key in...and slowly pushes the door open. Here goes another night....
