No! Don’t wake me up. I wasn’t ready yet; at least not ready enough to return to the real world. I open my eyes, and the darkness of the early morning makes me want to shut them again. I wake up before God does. Beep, beep goes my alarm. Shut up. I practically punch the off button and slouch back into the comfort of my queen sized heaven.
This is the part I hate most about the day. That middle ground between those heavenly sweet, blissful dreams, and the shower waiting for me down the hall. Be quiet, I tell my head. Let me think.
This is the part of the morning when I long so much to return to the back of my mind and pick up where my ideal soap opera had been paused. Excuse me, I mean interrupted. I hate interruptions. That’s what life feels like right now; just one big, stupid, ugly interruption. Go away. I can’t even hold on to a shred of my dream, but there’s no hope in trying anyway because in a few minutes my mother will knock quietly on the door and announce what time it is, because recently, I’ve become narcoleptic.
Ah, school. NO. Why did you have to bring that up? I tell my brain. Damn. I contemplate hiding under the covers. I could make a pretty sturdy fort; password protected and everything. Ugh, but I will miss the bus.
When this idea finally sets in I use my arms to drag myself into the wilderness that is my bedroom. When did all these clothes get on the floor? And why does it look like a tornado ran through my closet? Just the sight of my room gives me the urge to crawl back to safety, but I press on. Once I’ve successfully moseyed on over to the bathroom, a quick look in the mirror tells me that my day will be crappy. Oh hair, why can’t you ever cooperate? I tell the strands of limp, brown string hanging over my shoulder. And when did that planet start orbiting my nose? Oh the joy of puberty. Shower time.
I’ve decided that I absolutely need a sauna. I’ll build one in between the fuzzy pink toilet and the futon when I get a place of my own; because the shower never seems to be hot enough for me. As I step out of the moisture to dry myself, my scalp tingles from that amazing green tea conditioner I love my mother so much for buying me.
Oh shoot, where’s the mirror? I turn on the fan to clear the fog and dash back to my room to get dressed before I freeze to death. As I’m pulling on my jeans I catch a glimpse of the clock on my night stand.
In about five seconds I’m back in my pajamas, curled up under my comforter, with the light turned of. It’s two- thirty in the morning.