Cheers to you Monday and helping me be the worst version of myself.  I suppose it’s not all your fault- in fact, I’ll put some of the blame on Sunday.  I very distinctly remember deciding to go to sleep last night as opposed to spending a little bit of time writing.  Rolling over, I grabbed my phone and set my alarm for 7:00 am.  As I looked at the screen, I noticed that the battery level was at 21%.  That seems like a pretty reasonable amount, right?  Reasonable enough that I didn’t bother to get up and grab a charger or, even lazier, call sweetly to the other room and have my BF bring me one.  How simple would that had been?  Simple, sure, but why even bother if I still had TWENTY ONE PERCENT on my phone.  


As it turns out, 21% isn’t enough.


This morning came too soon, as they all seem to do, and as I lay in bed, willing myself to go back to sleep I noted the increasing level of noise, from both foot and automotive traffic.  This *usually* means the morning has officially begun and people are headed into work.  “Why are so many people already heading into work?”  I cursed into my pillow.  Careful not to move fast enough to to wake BF or dog, I let my hand slither across the bed to hit the menu button on my phone.  I was mentally prepping myself for it to say 6:54 am so I could then curse myself for wasting 6 precious minutes of sleep time.  


It took me 3 presses, each dramatically more violent, to realize that my phone was, in fact, dead.  Mother ****ER!  I launched myself out of bed and over the dog, trying to remember what obscure part of the apartment I could’ve left a charger.  As I fumbled through a pile of things in the living room I heard BF get up and start shuffling toward me.  


Bf: “Oh hey- everything ok?




Bf: “Oh ya, my phone is dead too”




Bf: (picking up laptop) “It’s 8:56-”




Bf: “Whoops, that’s pm, it’s from last night.”


Me: (Stare)


Bf: “Oh (yawn) – Here it is- it’s 7:49”

Me: “$%^(#)!!($%$(*#$%($^(*#$(


Eleven minutes is not enough time for any functioning human to get ready, much less a 30-year-old woman who hasn’t washed her hair in 3 days and spent the previous 24 hours hiking.  Luckily, as I struggled to throw water on my face and grab deodorant, Bf took note of the level of panic emanating from my body.  He calmly set out my clothes and gathered my work things so that I wouldn’t have to.  He also reassured me that I would make it in time and that my day would go smoothly.  Shout out to you, Bf.  


It was only after my appointment (which I did arrive to on time) that I got to look in the mirror since leaving the apartment.  I noted a piece of something crusty in the corner of my lip, a smudge of black (mascara?) on my eyelid and some dandruff sprinkled above my right ear.  A model of professionalism.  My customer had sat there, served me tea and listened to my sales pitch as half of my eyelashes were stuck together.


In an emotional fury I pulled my car into a parking lot and grabbed my makeup bag, try to undo everything my customer and I had just seen.  Ever done makeup in a tiny mirror in a Dodge Challenger with minimal light?  It isn’t easy.  In this particular light I believed that the “more is best” tactic was needed to undo the morning.  This was proven wrong when I pulled into a gas station 30 minutes later, shocked to see a frowning clown looking back at me in the bathroom mirror.   See the below:


This is a photograph, by the way.  Please note the squiggly marks indicating the high level of smelliness.  This picture can be interchanged with Sweet Dee from “Always Sunny in Philadelphia” when Frank did her makeup.  Look it up.  You’ll be shocked at the similarity.


Monday is now coming to a close and I find myself coming to peace with the day.  I have one appointment left to go.  Just one.  After that, I can go home and shower- maybe have a beer in the shower!  I can brush my teeth!  Wait, did I brush my teeth this morning…..?   *$&!


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s