Ok, I must preface today by saying that I have plagerized-well, is it plagerism if I give the author full credit? I don't think it is...so without further ado I give you Cycles by A. Blank.
I want you to sit back w/ a cuppa your fav warm beverage & enjoy A Day in the Life of ........Everyone-afterall haven't we all had days (or weeks, months-I hope no one has had years like this)
So picture this, a comfortable bed, warmth, fully embracing a deep slumber that would make Snow White jealous, sunk so deep into your subconscious REM-loving mind that you don't have a care in the world, it's nice right? Suddenly, an obnoxious noise dares to enter your ears, maybe it's a phone ringing, a beep-beep-beep, or an ERR-ER-ERRRR! Grumbling, you turn over and slap your hand haphazardly over your nightstand until you find the traitorous piece of plastic. Five, ten, maybe twenty minutes later you decide it really is time to venture out of bed. Then comes the next hardest part of your day, finding clothes to wear. It's bad enough that your eyes are not yet adjusted enough to distinguish colors, but on top of that you have absolutely nothing to wear. Your drawers are full of stupid shirts that you always end up wearing and your closet...yeah nothing there either. Five, ten minutes later you manage to clothe and wash yourself, now to breakfast. Cheerios. Cheerios with milk. Why is it always Cheerios? How boring. You opt for an English muffin and some English breakfast tea. Now you are officially English. Congratulations. Time now to take one last glance at the mirror...ick. "Oh well," you tell yourself, "today will just be a sloppy day". Nevermind that every day has been a "sloppy day" for about a month, or two, or three.
Slam your books into your bag, slam the front door, slam your car door, slam your head against the steering wheel, slam the gas pedal to the floor and careen down the road, slam into another car crossing that intersection..no wait, scratch that, this is not that kind of story...um, slam on the brakes and miss that car in the intersection, but..hit a turkey, yes, a turkey. Arrive at your place of educational fulfillment. Arrive at your place of employment. Arrive at your place of worship. Whichever. All morning commitments are the same: wave groggily at passing friends, go to the room you need to, sit and concentrate on the professor, or teacher, or pastor, or employer. Try not to let your mind wander back to that dream about...Prince Charming? No. The dream about fields of flowers? No. That dream about fairies and unicorns? Definitely not! Oh, I know, that dream about Prince Charming running away from an army of fairies riding unicorns through a field of flowers..eh, it'll work...only the fairies should be hairy and scary, Charming should be a midget, and the flowers should be at least 45 feet tall. Woops. You just LOL'ed. In class or church, or at your job. Heh, well that was embarrassing. Congratulations.
The morning ends with a ring of a bell, a prayer, or a homework assignment, then it's time for lunch. You packed an amazing lunch. No. You packed three crackers, an apple, and half a piece of pizza. Here's to Rachel Ray! Someday you will learn to go grocery shopping. Oh well, there are starving kids in Africa.
Great,he just walked into the lunch room. He laughs because you have cheese stuck to your chin in the perfect shape of an adolescent male's first mustache. Fabulous. But he offers you a napkin. You try to think of something to say..."thank you"? "thanks"? "gracias"? "you're a gorgeous piece of man meat"? You prepare to say something flirty and funny, but all that comes out is, "Thanks you, man meat is gorgeous and so are you, gracias." He quirks an eyebrow and then sits somewhere else. You're an idiot. Slam your head on the table, or the chair, or your shoe, or do all three and really freak people out. Daily reputation ruined? Check. Congratulations.
Now I can almost guarantee you something, you will either have an uncomfortable encounter with that person you can't stand, your teacher will choose you to answer a question that doesn't make sense in your mind, or you will step on someone's A.B.C. gum and be stuck to the floor for the rest of the day. Maybe all three. Learn to be invisible. Learn to blend in with the crowd. Learn to hide inside yourself. It's a jungle out there.
Head back to your car or the bus or maybe you walked, and steer yourself in the direction of home. Focus on your other responsibilities: homework, make dinner, go back to work, wash your clothes, and/or get some exercise. Instead, you end up falling asleep on the sofa with your Biology book, a half eaten banana, and...a beer (just kidding, as I said, it's not that kind of story) actually you're rather partial to chocolate milk. Twenty, Thirty, Forty-five minutes later you wake up and realize how much time you just wasted. Congratulations.
By dinner you're ravenously hungry but you're home alone, or in a dorm, or live in a cave, and there's nothing around to eat. Cheerios? Yum. Add plenty of milk, and maybe the rest of your banana. Then spend some time flipping through recipe books and dreaming of culinary excellence.
After dinner it's time to criticize yourself thoroughly for failing your day. Stupid, stupid you. Not a terrible day exactly, just normal. Normal. Stinkingly normal. Accomplish what you were supposed to do earlier. Crash in front of the TV with a bag of chips, after all your diet starts tomorrow. Maybe you go to a friend's house. Maybe you go shopping. Maybe you go "out". Maybe you go to youth group. It's all the same. Or is it? Don't think about that question, this is not that kind of a story either.
Come home, prepare your belongings for tomorrow morning, try to pick out your outfit, but you don't feel like thinking about that now so you just decide to pick something tomorrow morning. One, two, three hours later, you're in bed reading, or journaling, or crying, or saying a quick prayer. It doesn't matter. It's meaningless. Where did that word come from? Whatever. You drift off, blissfully unaware of the world. Congratulations.
Morning. A comfortable bed, warmth, fully embracing a deep slumber that would make Snow White jealous....
Ok, so this isn't supposed to be a depressing story, or completely pointless, though it does seem like both : ). It's supposed to have a meaning, though if you don't see it right away, then it's no big deal, this just happens to be a free-write that i felt like sharing because...I'm like that. Definition of a "free-write": write for several minutes without stopping or correcting. So there you go.
Author: A. Blank