My eyes slowly opened to the alarm clock blaring in my left ear as I rolled out of bed. Rolling out of bed isn’t as easy as people tell you. There is always the risk of physical strain on ones self as the body physically rolls making a 2.79 foot plunge onto a hard half inch cushioned carpet. The Irony of the statement is that I don’t even roll out of bed, but there is something not all that American about “rolling out of a futon.” That sounds more like some kind of Japanese illness. I came down with the horrible futon illness over the busiest weekend of work and now I’m on workers comp. Of course that last statement was a tad sarcastic.
I woke up to the fresh scent of coffee filling the room. I will admit that Folgers had it right when they said “the best part of waking up is folgers in my cup.” No matter how much of the stuff I drink I still cannot go a day without walking into the local coffee house for an afternoon cup of joe. This of course is usually the only thing going through my mind the entire day; before work, during work, and after work. Even now it engulfs my mind like some kind of nirvana.
I finally managed to get out of bed and walk the three and a half steps to the shower. I take a short glimpse at the mirror. Just enough make sure I don’t over kill my warrantee. I know what you’re thinking. Why would I bother buying a warrantee for a mirror? Well let’s just say my luck with mirrors hasn’t been so good over the past few years. I brush my teeth like I do every morning. 138.9 brush strokes and no exceptions. I feel almost like Harold Crick from “Stranger than fiction” sharing how many brush strokes I make. To be completely honest I totally made the whole thing up.
The morning commute was pretty much the same as every other morning; cars honking, people screaming, creepy people singing…out of tune, and my favorite, fellow business men talking to themselves in the rear view mirror. Don’t get me wrong it is a totally fashionable thing to do. It is a pronunciation exercise that all men do on their way to work. They simply look in the mirror and say this line….I will not cut up during the meeting today….oh wait never mind….*clears throat*….I will do my best today. Of course people look down on this psychological exercise as stupid and pointless, but at the heart of the matter it isn’t about the words, it’s about the meaning. I once did a speech in high school about the importance of self recognition. Let’s just say that the teacher recognized that I needed a little self improvement. Never the less I am still a supporter of men who talk to themselves in the rear view mirror. I am more a fan of singing. I love to sing the words of all my favorite classics from Shania Twain, Taylor Swift, and Faith Hill, and from a rare occasion I like Brad Paisley and the rest of the crew. OK I’m kidding…..not about the Taylor Swift part just for the record.
I woke up this morning telling myself today is going to be a good day. I have officially requested from the department of National defense to change the date of the D-day holiday to yesterday. I think it was pretty comparable. Bombs were exploding, people making mad dashes, and of course the emotion of it all. Well the bombs were more like coffee spills, and the only one making the mad dash was me, but it still felt like the worst day ever.
I pulled into my usual parking spot on top of the parking structure which seemed to take forever to climb. It is almost a hindrance enough to install an elevator for cars. Now wouldn’t that be something. It would be very similar to the sketchy freight elevator at work. Ah yes work. I work at a shoe store. Well more like a sports store, but we sell shoes. I haven’t quite found the time to grow up and find a real job, but this works for now. I have been there for the past few years now, and haven’t had the motivation to quit. So I guess I’m stuck there. I did however manage to pull of full time hours; which was one hour longer than I have always worked.
I punched in for another long day of selling shoes, dealing with not so intelligent people, and coworkers who don’t know how to do their jobs. I’m not pessimistic at all just for the record. I don’t like to see the glass half empty, nor half full for that matter. Just a simple composition of 50% substance and 50% air. Not that hard people. 8 hours seem to pass by faster today as I cant get my mind off of yesterday. Am I insane for thinking about it too much? Probably, but somehow my mind thinks it wants to ponder on it for a while.
It was getting to the end point of my day when loud speaker paged my name over to the registers. This wasn’t unusual to hear such a page, but when I caught a glimpse of why I was paged, the walk down the concrete “yellow brick road” to death just got shorter. She stood about a hundred feet off in the distance. Just enough to throw the winning post route pass for the TD…way too much work. They say the sports analogies never seem to die. She smiled at me as if I was the prodigal son coming home from years of squandering….horrible example, but then again so was Mona Lisa….what’s done is done. I was already clocked out for the day…unfortunately, and all I wanted to do was to avoid anything that would put the surviving brain cell’s from the previous day’s events to work. I could tell by the anticipation in her voice that just wasn’t going to happen.
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