Mundane Monday


Mundane Monday

It was the usual Monday morning rush. There just never seems to be enough time and coherence to get the morning routine into play, but I’m usually an expert by Friday. Still, Monday always returns with a taunting and menacing fury as it challenges my weekly attempts of creating a mastered stability.
I was already off to a rough start from the moment the alarm rang. You’d think my arm could run on autopilot when it comes to reaching for the snooze button. Not today. I was apparently closer to the nightstand than I thought and accidently swung the alarm clock clear across the floor. The silence of the alarm brought temporary relief, but I gruntingly realized I had knocked the dang thing right out of the socket. Not exactly the temporary snooze I was looking for. Presuming that if I stayed in bed any longer I’d oversleep I succumbed to reality. Well, somewhat succumbed. I reluctantly dragged myself up to a sitting position and sat…and sat…and sat…grunt...sniff…sigh
My eyes are sticky and are not quite ready to open. I can feel the weight of my drooped head clear down my spine. When did I grow to be so damn achy? I thought. Ugh! My eyes continue to boycott the morning, but I begin my blind trek to the bathroom anyway. I almost ignore the pain of stepping on my badly placed shoe. Admitting to the pain is not as aggravating as accepting the fact that I have yet learned to put my damn shoes in the right place. I can almost hear the incriminating voice of my own conscience mocking me.Ahhhh shut up! I say mumbling to an obviously transparent chip on my shoulder.
My toe reaches the bathroom door before my hand reaches the doorknob. Damn it! I scowl to myself. I plop down on the toilet only to quickly learn the extremely cold lid is closed. Thank goodness I still have a pretty good grip on my muscles and I shoot up spreading my arms for balance. I manage a chuckle while thinking I must look like an umpire yelling, SAFE! I stand…I huff...I place my hands on my hips and glance up to the sky as if to ask God – why? Another deep sigh and things proceed more smoothly.
Things are looking up after my shower. I hurriedly dry myself and wipe the steam from the mirror. I begin to take inventory of my face and not liking what I see I quickly decide it’s best not to study my evolving skin. I hope my eyes clear up...stupid shampoo! I fumble while searching for my Visine and quickly give up because for the life of me I cannot remember what I was looking for in the first place. I get dressed and attempt to ignore the wet spot I missed on the small of my back, but my shirt sticks to me like a sticky pad. Dang it! I grunt dismissively. Almost as if scoffing off the wet spot causes it to actually go away. It doesn't. One glance at my bathroom clock tells me to deal with it and get a move on. I finally kick into autopilot, hurriedly grab for all my things and head out.
I back out of my driveway when…

Originally published on HubPages 12/11/11 by, Marisa Hammond Olivares
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