Summer has rolled around again and do you know what that means? I have time to read again! As a child, I hated to read; my mother would read to me as a young child, but as I got older, she would make me read for at least 30 minutes a night. I hated it! Most of the time, I just couldn't get involved or invested in the characters. But, now that I'm older, I do anything to try and read at least 30 minutes a night, especially when I'm taking 16 credits and working 30 hours a week. But, now that I'm only taking four credits, (still working 30+ hours) I have time to read again!
Well, when I read a lot, my mind begins to work a tad bit differently. I begin to narrate my life as if I am the author of a book and I need to vividly describe everything as if some non-existent person were reading it. Each an everything I do is described in my head in such great detail. Well, I believe it is about time that I let someone read my narration. This is a day in the life of me. This is Monday, May 23, 2011.
The most annoying noise that has ever been heard rung in her ears. She slowly turned in the small twin bed, that had too many blankets on it for a summer day. Summer was coming a little early here; some blame it on global warming, Rachel just figured it was Michigan, and you couldn't predict the weather here. She hit the snooze button on her cell phone and rolled back over. The dog from across the yard was barking again.
She just shut her eyes when the alarm rang again. This time she sat up. Fumbling to find her glasses, she stood up. The morning sun shown through her windows were much too bright at this ungodly hour. What time is it? She thought. Lifting her the watch from her dresser she sees it's eleven a.m. I slept in this late?! All the things she wanted to get done before work would have to wait. She fumbled for pants, remembering the look on her brother's face the last time she went downstairs forgetting them. Gliding on a pair of mens basketball shorts, she lazily walks out of her bedroom and down to the kitchen.
Her mother is pacing around. She was wearing an all black outfit, unusual from her normal bright hues.
"Who died?" Rachel asked.
"What??" Her mother responded kissing her cheek while screwing on the lid to her travel coffee mug. "I'm off to Aunt Donna's," she had forgotten that a question was even asked. "I've gotta borrow some jewelry for the wedding." Michael's wedding was coming up on Saturday. Rachel had bought a new dress, much to her mother's dismay. "Have you thought any more about the other dress for the wedding? I still think your new one is too tight."
Rachel went to the freezer and grabbed the waffles. "Well, if it wasn't too tight before, it will be now."
Brett ran around the corner. "Hey, Rach-face!" They did their secret handshake that they'd made up as kids.
"Hey big brother."
"Will you both be home for dinner?"
"No," Brett and Rachel had answered simultaneously.
"Ugh, well, I have to go!" Kissing them both on the cheek, her mother had left.
She sat at the table next to Brett who was eating a bowl of cereal. "I don't wanna go to work," Rachel moaned. Brett simply shrugged his shoulders.
"You know what you should do?" Brett asked matter-a-factly.
"What?"
"You should walk in, say 'I don't feel good!' Then throw a sandwich on the floor and scream 'I QUIT!'" Brett was always saying the most ridiculous things. Although they never seemed to make sense, it always put a smile on her face.
After scarfing down her waffles, (and the chocolate cupcake no one saw her eat,) she proceeded up the steps. She stepped into the bathroom. She sat on the toilet before even glancing at the mirror. Every morning was the same, she needed a moment to prep before looking at herself after waking up. You only look this bad because you don't have make-up on and your hair isn't done. No matter how hard Gardiner tries, bed head will never look good.
She took a deep breath after washing her hands and looked up at the mirror. Oh God! It was bad. Her hair looked like it did when she was five and learned what teasing hair meant. ("If Dolly Parton does it, why can't I?") And she did have make up one. Last nights mascara was smeared along her face. Her eyes were bloodshot from leaving her contacts in too long.
She had to do something, she only had a little while to get ready for work. She splashed water on her face and wiped away any residue of make up. She started to brush her teeth when a knock came to the door. She cracked the door to find Brett dancing. "Brush your teeth! Brush my teeth!"
Rachel didn't respond. They just held eye contact. After a moment, Rachel just slowly closed the door, still maintaining eye contact, until the last moment before the door closed. She finished brushing her teeth, then opened the door. Her brother was now gone. She walked back into her bedroom.
She stripped from her clothes and sat on her bed. Opening her laptop, she checked some social network page that everyone seems to be spending far too much time on. After checking on vacation pictures of people, Rachel barely knew, she closed her laptop.
She stood up, slid on a brand new soft-dyed blue tee-shirt and a pair of jeans. The jeans just looked all wrong. She slid on another pair, and although it didn't look good, it looked better than anything else she would try.
She continued getting ready, straightening her hair, which was getting too long. Her hair was just tickling the top of her breasts. It hadn't done that since high school. Once she finished with her hair (which still didn't look good, but was better than the birds nest it started out as,) she spread the paint that is her foundation across her face. She attempted to cover up the sorry attempt that was self tanner from the night before. It wasn't that she was looking orange, just dirty.
She finished her make up routine and glanced at her watch. 12:25?!?! Where has the time gone!? She hurried downstairs. She grabbed some microwave dinner and her book. She bolted out the door. The rain was pelting down. She shuffled into her electric blue Focus and sped off. Bernadette Peters voice rang out as Mama Rose from Gypsy.
Now I realize, my life is really boring. I have nothing else to really write about. So, that was...uhhhh, a morning in the life of me... I guess.*
*I exaggerated, but not on the things you think I did...
