I hit the snooze button too many times this morning. I didn't get out of bed till ten after six.
It's established, I'm running late.
I'm usually frantic when I get up late. Always running around like a chicken with my head cut off. It's no different this morning.
I must admit, before I go on, that I still got on the computer and checked my Hotmail, Myspace, and Twitter. If I hadn't, then I might have gotten back on schedule. But not checking those things in the morning is like not brushing your teeth.
I should probably also add that the reason I was so tired was cuz I was up late on Twitter. LOL! But that's not important.
Because I was so tired, and because the weatherman said it was going to be hot and humid, I decided there was no way in hell I was going to wear jeans! I already wore my Capris twice this week, it was the only pair I owned (I don't know what happened to the other ones) and they needed to be washed. So I decided to wear pajama pants to work, cuz it's not like I wear them to bed! LOL. I run to the living room to check my reflection in the full length mirror, and my roommate is in the bathroom, she just woke up.
(I still haven't brushed my hair...) Ashely starts talking to me from the toilet about how tired she is and why. I pause briefly but when I realize she's turning her explanation- that I didn't even ask for - into a monologue, I cut her off with an "ah huh" and keep it moving to the bedroom.
It's 6:50 a.m., I'm putting junk into my purse, trying to make sure I don't forget anything. I still haven't called my ride (which I usually do at quarter of) when I hear my roommate on the other side of my door. An exasperated sigh wooshes from my lips. I
so don't have time for this.
I pull the door open. "What?" "Does this shirt make me look pregnant?" (I KNOW! I could have slugged her, thought about it too.) "Ashley I don't have time for this!!!" "But I thought you said you were going in your pajama pants?" "So!? Doesn't mean I'm read! I should have been out the door five minutes ago." I close the door on her face as she's saying, "Oh, my bad then."
I brush my hair and call my ride at 6:53. Then I grab my purse, keys, and laundry bag (I need my Capri pants washed, might as well wash a few other things) and head out the door; completely forgetting that Ashley had interrupted me and I hadn't finish putting things into my purse.
No book or money for coffee (which I usually don't drink but was in serious need for today).
I finally get to work, my step-dad gives me money for breakfast (thank you!) and I get a sandwich and an ice coffee from DD.
Before I even touch my ice coffee I put my clothes in the washing machine, but before I can even get the washer door closed, this lady (a regular) asks where the carts are. I point her in the direction of the carts - the same place they've
always been - and go in search of detergent for my clothes.
I don't even have enough time to put the Tide n my machines, the same lady now needs a cup for her quarters. I go to the back and get a new bag of cups. When I come out, she doesn't want the cup anymore...
I made her take it anyway - in a nice way of course- made me stop what I was doing to fetch you a cup, you gonna
use a cup!
Another regular walks in. There are now three costumers in the entire laundromat. That's not alot. For some reason, he decides to use the machine next to mine. It irked me a little bit. It's like having someone sit next to you in the movie theater when you're the only two people there. But whatever...
I finally get my clothes washing and head to the office to eat my (cold) sandwich and drink my (rapidly melting) ice coffee.
Two bites and three sips later, Mr.
I'm gonna use the machine next to yours and move your cart out the way when there's an empty laundromat full of empty machines available comes up to my window and in a hissy-fit tone, demands I tell him why there isn't any hot water running. (Um, how the hell am
I supposed to know? Do I look like I work for the water company?) I tell him - what has been told to me - that because we just opened and he's one of the first people to use the machines, the pipes might still be cold.
Apparently that's not the answer he was looking for. Mr.
High and Mighty tells me it shouldn't matter, the water should still come out hot and blah blah blah blah blah. All I heard was noise after that point, he wouldn't even let me speak. Finally, I just grabbed the phone while he was still rambling and called my step-dad. While the phone is ringing, he finishes his rant and asks "Do you get what I'm saying?" "Not really," I tell him.
I probably shouldn't have, because he just went back to explaining it to me. (I really need to work on my lying, this honesty thing just isn't cutting it anymore.)
I can usually keep it together, but dammit I'm tired, it's early and I've only had three sips of my coffee; I'm on edge. "You can explain it to the manager." He still keeps rambling. "I'm calling the manager now! You can tell
him!" Now I have my bitch face on (you just can't hold a sunny disposition for long around these people. Then they wonder why I never smile). He walks away.
My dad answers the phone, I explain the situation. He says to tell the guy that that's how our machines work and if he doesn't like it he can go someplace else. (He's pretty fed up with this nonsense too. We both need vacations).
I look out the window, searching for my jerky costumer. I spot him rambling about our lack of hot water to another costumer.
You know what? I'm not chasing after him. Let him come to me and then I'll tell him what Frank said. (He never did come back)
All this happened before 7:30. Why are you people bothering me so freaking early? Go to sleep! You're the reason why I got to wake up so damn early. If it weren't for you, we probably wouldn't open till nine. Hell, even maybe ten! That's why they're so cranky. It's why
I'm so cranky.
How come we can't be like Mexico and have siesta time? I need to write a letter to the president. Cuz that's why Mexicans are so laid back. Well, that and tequila.
*I also dropped my mp3 player while I was trying to write this. Usually in my pocket, I was holding it cuz my pajama pants don't have pockets.
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10:30 a.m.
It's rather busy now. I'm in the office hanging out, just finished sweeping.
A costumer asks for change for a twenty. She wants a ten and two fives (FYI I hate it when they tell me what they want. We are not a bank, I will give you what we have. Hehe, the coffee might have woken me up but it didn't bring back my sunny disposition). I give her two fives and ten singles - the last of my change - Five seconds later she slams the singles on the counter in front of me and demands I give her the quarters because the machine isn't taking the bills. I ask her if she was putting it in the right way and she says "yes" even before I finish asking.
She's got this bitch attitude...ghetto bitch...but she does not know who she is talking to. Anybody can do ghetto bitch,
I tackle ghetto bitches with my special brand of condescending bitch.
I give her the condescending bitch look - small smirk, raised eyebrow - and say, "We'll just see about that." I saunter (yes,
saunter) over to her and grab one of the bills, put in the machine and giver her a triumphant smile as the machine spits the quarters out. Then - without a word - I saunted back to my office.
Bitch, please. I've been working here almost three years, do you think I don't know when a bitch is being lazy and just doesn't want to put the bills in one at a time?
You see? I have it in me. You just have to push me over the edge, and it just happens that today the edge was extremely close to the surface.
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11:24 a.m.
Oh no!
He just walked in. "He" is a regular who whenever sees me reading, writing or on the laptop, asks me if I'm bored. I always tell him no (obviously, right?) but every ten minutes he'll ask me if I'm "bored yet".
Why do people think I'm bored cuz I'm reading or writing? Damn, is it that hard for you to fathom that some of us enjoy the written word?
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11:34 a.m.
He hasn't asked me if I'm bored, yet. But he did spill detergent all over my floor. *sigh* At least he informed me of it.
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11:38 a.m.
Ok, who the hell was eating Lucky Charms and spilled them all on my floor?
"Magically delicious." Ha! If they were so magical, they'd clean themselves up!
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11:45 a.m.
Holy shitake mushrooms! Luis Torrez just walked in!
I haven't seen him since he quit RCA freshman year of high school. We were
friends (and by friends I mean I used to make him do my bidding and he was very araid of me) in middle school. And I look like carp. *sigh*
I hate letting people from my past see me look so bummy. Makes me feel like I'm a failure and haven't accomplished anything. (I know it's not true though
Not looking for reassurance of my self worth.)
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12 Noon
My brother stopped by to pick Bully up. He's not here though. He just invited me to his house for a cookout tomorrow. I lied and told him I already had plans (hope he doesn't read this, oops. But I doubt he takes the time). Sorry Rich, but I'm not going over there to play babysitter. I aint' dumb.
Then him and Mary - his baby momma that no one likes - tell me I was "buggin" the other day. Apparently they read my myspace mood about my characters talking to me.
They laughed in my face and told me I needed to see a psychiatrist.
Why does everyone in my family think I'm nuts?
Obviously none of them have a creative bone in their body.
I gave them the condescending bitch look. I don't even bother to explain my
nutty way to my family anymore. It's a waste of time and it makes me look nuttier...I don't like that word, nuttier, can I say crunchier instead?
(Yeah, now you guys think I'm as nutty as they thin I am)
I wonder if Dr. Seuss ever got this kind of grief?
I mean, cat in the hat, green eggs and ham?
Who eats green eggs?
I ate a green hamburger once - totally by accident - and I was sick to my stomach for hours afterwards. Never did eat lunch at my high school cafeteria again.
(You remember that incident, Aly? Remember your expired yogurt? Remember I told you to check the date? You should always listen to me. Oh! And remember the lunch lady's hair in your sandwich? Good think you opened it to put mayo or you would have had cold turkey surprise).
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1:17 p.m
Frank just asked me to work tomorrow morning. I said no. I feel bad, but I need to learn to say no because I always get stuck doing things I don't want to cuz I'm too nice.
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1:20 p.m.
He's trying to guilt me into it. Too bad for him he picked the wrong day. I have sympathy for no one!
